


Under the Beam of the Lighthouse

by silverstardust



Series: The Trails Which We Leave Behind [1]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Almost Confessions, Almost Kiss, And grabbed it with his teeth, Anxiety Attacks, Arguments, Birthday Presents, Blue Moon, Break Up, Cat Behaviors, Comfort, Crushes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destroying a Park, Dreams, Drowning, Even More Comfort!, Fae & Fairies, Falling Out of Love, Finding Moomin Valley, Fireworks, Fishing, Flirting, Flower Braiding, Fluff, Forebodings, Found Family?, Hot Springs, I say that liberally, Introducing MYMBLE AND FUZZY!!!!, Jealousy, Joxter gets arrested, Joxter has Paws and a Tail, Joxter is a cat, Joxter probably dunked his head into the water, Joxter voice FUCK COPS, Leaf Boats, Light Angst, Magic, Making Up, Mentions Of Soulmates, Mentions of Poloramy, Missing Scene, Moominmamma!!!!, More Comfort!, More Forebodings, Mumble voice: This is my stepdad now, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Original Mythology, Parallels, Pining, Playful teasing, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Prophetic Dreams, Rescue, Shotgunning, Slow Burn, Smoking, Star Gazing, Storms, Storytelling, THEY FINALLY KISS FOLKS, Tarot, The King's Island, The King's Party!!, Tree Climbing, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking? Maybe?, Vandalism, Weed, Wishes, Woodies, again!, bewitching, ish?, parks, star watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-10-18 14:30:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20640710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverstardust/pseuds/silverstardust
Summary: It was very different, seeing Joxter asleep than seeing him awake. Awake, Joxter seemed to always be coiled tightly, always ready to pounce, to play a trick, with a playful twinkle in his eye and two deft hands that had perfected all the sleights of hand Moomin knew of, and more. But asleep was the only time that Moomin saw Joxter fully relaxed, limbs loose and untensed, and a sense of peacefulness, a deeper, older peacefulness than when he was awake, draped over him like the thick velvet duvet the two of them shared on the colder nights, when they slept under the stars on the deck of the Oshun Oxtra, Joxter whispering the names of faraway stars and constellations in Moomin’s ear until the wee hours of the morning, when they passed out from sheer exhaustion.--A lighthouse can mean many things, but most often, it represents finding your own path in the world. You could say, one has all their important life events happen underneath the beam of their own lighthouse.--July 30, 2020 Update: A heavily edited version of this story is in the works for publication. Any publication of this story or a story similar is authorized.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Moominpappa is referred to as Moomin, since Moomintroll isn't born yet.  
Joxter and Moominpappa are roughly 19. Muddler is roughly 16, and Hodgekins is roughly 25.

“Thank you for inviting me to join you, Hodgekins. This sounds exactly like the type of adventure I’m looking for.”

  


“Of course, we could always use another pair of hands on deck.” Hodgekins pulled the rope ladder back aboard the ship, and tied to the railing, so it wouldn’t unravel. “It’s not the biggest ship out there, but with the four of us, we should be able to manage. If you learn the basics of manning the wheel, that is.”

  


“Four of us?” Moomin asked curiously. He gazed around the ship’s deck, admiring how well the ship seemed to be put together. “Besides Muddler, who else is joining?”

  


“An old friend of mine, named Joxter. You’ll probably get along well with him, he’s a mumrik after all.” Hodgekins walked up the bridge, and Moomin quickly followed. “I bet he’s up here, I left a sign up.”

  


“He’s a what now?”

  


Hodgekins picked up a small sign that seemed to have been previously hung on the door, but was now ripped off. “What, you mean to say you’ve never met one before? They’re travelling folk- vagabonds and adventurers. I’ve never seen one stay in one place for too long.”

  


Hodgekins opened the door, and Moomin peered in over his shoulder. At the table inside sat a roguish looking man, about the same age as Moomin, with sleek black paws that he seemed to be dipping into melted candle wax.

  


“Joxter, didn’t you see the sign? Means you shouldn’t come in,” Hodgekins scolded. The man- Joxter, simply scoffed and gave a sly grin, making a very rude gesture to Hodgekins. Hodgekins simply sighed and shook his head.

  


“Moomin, this is Joxter. Joxter, Moomin. He’ll be joining us on our adventure.”

  


Moomin stepped into the room, past Hodgekins, and walked over to the table. “Aren’t you going to burn yourself with the candle wax? What are you doing?”

  


“Capping my claws, obviously.”

  


“Your what? Why would you need to do that?”

  


Joxter looked up at Moomin, raising an eyebrow, and a jolt went down Moomin’s spine. Joxter’s eyes were an unnerving, unnatural shade of blue, like crackling electricity or glacier ice. Combined with the shape of his slitted pupils, Joxter’s gaze felt entirely predatory.

  


Slowly, with a blank face, Joxter held out a paw to Moomin. Moomin’s gaze flitted between the open paw and Joxter’s face, before he hesitantly poked the pink pad in the center of his palm.

  


Moomin instantly squealed in terror and jumped away as long, wickedly sharp claws unsheathed from Joxter’s fingertips. Joxter burst into laughter, pulling his hands away.

  


Hodgekins smacked Joxter’s shoulder with a rolled up map. “You’re horrible.”

  


“Oh, lighten up! It’s always funny, and besides, they’re already capped anyways.” Joxter held up his paw again, grinning. With a small bit of relief, Moomin noted that each claw tip was covered in a small layer of semi transparent candle wax.

  


“That was a frightfully awful joke.” Moomin crossed his arms and frowned at Joxter.

  


Joxter simply grinned with a shrug of his shoulders and stood up. “Well, you certainly won’t fall for the same thing twice, so it won’t happen again. Or at least, I hope you wouldn’t fall for it again.” Joxter winked, swiping a red brimmed hat from the table and placing it on his head. “Well! I’ll see you around! It’s far too crowded in here for a nap. I might try the crow’s nest instead.” With another laugh, Joxter turned and walked out of the bridge.

  


Moomin sat down at the table. “What a peculiar person he is.”

  


“He’s funky alright, but you get used to his antics quickly.” Hodgekins unrolled the map he had smacked Joxter with, placing it out upon the table. “Don’t tell him not to do something, though. Then he’ll just do it to spite you. Or to cause mischief.”

  


“If he’s bothersome, why don’t you kick him off, then?”

  


“He doesn’t intentionally set out to harm people. His pranks are all in good fun. His clairvoyant abilities are also invaluable, and frankly..” Hodgekins sighed again. “Frankly, I’m afraid if we kicked him off, he’d just sneak back on and we’d be none the wiser of it.”

  


Moomin leaned forward with interest. “He’s clairvoyant?”

  


“Oh, absolutely. I’m not sure if that’s a mumrik thing, or if it’s a Joxter thing, but he’s predicted storms and their severities a day or two in advance, and when you’re out to sea..”

  


“Oh yes, that’d be an invaluable talent to have.” Moomin looked out through the open door. “How does he know these things?”

  


“Something about aches in his bones, and dreams. He passed out once, before predicting a hurricane. He calls them forebodings.”

  


“What a scary name for something so helpful.”

  


\---

  


“Moomin.”

  


Moomin squealed in terror as he sat up in his hammock, throwing the nearest object- a book he’d been reading- at the shadowy blob with two glowing blue eyes standing in the corner of the room.

  


“Ow!” Joxter protested. “Chill! It’s me!”

  


The shadowy blob shuffled around and Moomin could hear a match being struck before one of the lanterns flickered to life. Joxter tossed the match away and rubbed his forehead, pouting at Moomin.

  


“I can not BELIEVE you just threw a book at me! That hurt, you hippo!”

  


“You scared the hell out of me! I don’t have nighteyes like you, you indignant tom cat!”

  


“Sorry, I forgot. But there still was no reason to throw a book at me!” Joxter slunk over, crossing his arms. “Get up, I need your help.”

  


“You startled me in the dark, I’m not sure what you expected,” Moomin grumbled, sliding out of his hammock and picking up his book. “What do you need?”

  


Joxter walked back over to the stairs, peering up the open trapdoor and into the sky. “We need to secure the boat further. And tie up the sail, or they’ll probably rip, now that I think about it.”

  


“What? But we’re leaving tomorrow!”

  


“Sure, if you want to sail during a lightning storm.” With a huff and a roll of his eyes, Joxter darted back up the stairs to the top deck. Moomin grumbled again, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled up the stairs after Joxter. He grabbed a coil of rope on the deck, eyeing the rope ladder up the mast as Joxter was already skittering up, climbing with his claws instead of the ladder.

  


“How can you even tell there’s about to be a storm?” Moomin complained. He carefully began to climb to rope, wincing slightly when the rungs beneath his weight sagged as he stepped on them.

  


Joxter swung himself up onto the yard, helping Moomin to pull himself up as well. “Felt it in my joints, the wind pressure changed, and- that.”

  


Moomin followed Joxter’s pointed hand, gazing out into the ocean’s horizon. On little leaf boats, with what appeared to be oars made of sticks, a small army of little white creatures were floating down the river, towards them. Every now and then, one would flash a bright yellow, a crackling of electricity emitting from it and seemingly striking the others.

  


“What are THOSE?” Moomin yelped.

  


“Hattifattners. They chase electrical storms. Hurry up now. If I pull the sail up, I’ll tear the cloth.” Joxter started uncoiling the rope, tying it to the yard with a secure knot. Moomin grabbed the sails, beginning to bundle it up as best as he could. Joxter looped the rope around the bundle multiple times before tying it up with a set of secure knots.

  


“While those white things are a valid reason for knowing a storm, why are you relying on your joints telling you stuff? How do you know it’s forebodings and not like, early set arthritis.”

  


Joxter stopped, letting go of the rope and looked up at him with a blank face.

  


“Hey Moomin?”

  


“Yeah?”

  


“Shut the fuck up.” Joxter took the other coil of rope from Moomin’s shoulder, jumping over him with ease to dart across to the other side of the yard.

  


Moomin laughed under his breath and followed Joxter, although a bit more cautiously than Joxter’s leaping. “How long have you had forebodings, though?”

  


“Since I was a kid, I guess? I remember at the time I was travelling with a small pack.” 

  


“As a kid? How did you know for sure, and that is wasn't a lucky guess?” Moomin grabbed into the other sail, repeating the process they had done with the previous sail.

  


“I congratulated someone in the pack about their kid.”

  


“Well that doesn’t sound particularly remarkable.”

  


Joxter looped the rope around the sail again. “She didn’t find out she was pregnant until maybe two weeks later. Don’t know what happened after that, though. Left the pack shortly after, I’ve been mostly travelling on my own ever since.”

  


Moomin stared at him in surprise. “As a kid?”

  


“It’s common for mumriks.” Joxter shrugged, testing the knot he had tied. “Gotta be resourceful from a young age to keep out of trouble.”

  


A streak of lightning crackled above their heads, chased by a roar of thunder. Joxter’s head snapped up to gaze at the sky with a sharp inhale. Softly, slowly, small droplets of rain began to fall down. Moomin quickly grabbed the rope ladder, climbing down to rush back inside before the rain got any harder. He paused halfway down though, and looked back up.

  


Joxter was still perched on the yard, looking up into the blackening clouds with a soft look of peace on his face.

  


“Joxter?” Moomin yelled.

  


“Go on down!” Joxter yelled back above the roaring thunder. “I’m going to stay out here for a bit longer. I’ve got claws, I won’t fall!”

  


Moomin hesitated before resuming his climb back down, just as Hodgekins burst out from below deck, pulling on a coat.

  


“Don’t worry! Joxter and I have already pulled up the sails. He knew it was coming.”

  


Hodgekins stopped, arms dropping to his sides in relief. “Oh. Fantastic. Where is he?”

  


Moomin pointed up. Hodgekins followed the mast up, and gave an exasperated sigh to see Joxter up on the mast.

  


“Honestly, I’m not sure what I expected. He always does this when storms roll in. Come in and dry off before you catch a cold.” Hodgekins retreated back beneath the deck, and Moomin followed, shutting the trapdoor behind him.

  


\---

  


“I’m surprised you don’t have a cold,” Hodgekins complained.

  


Joxter shrugged, shuffling the small deck of cards in his hands. “I wasn’t out there for too long.”

  


“You were out there long enough for your jacket to get waterlogged. That’s at least a couple hours.”

  


“Again,” Joxter drawled, before holding out the deck of cards and letting Hodgekins select three. “Wasn’t out there for too long.”

  


“What kind of game are you playing?” Moomin stood up from his resting spot on the floor and wandered over to the table.

  


“Tarot,” Hodgekins said.

  


Joxter sniffed indignantly, taking the cards back from him. “Tarot is not a game. It’s a way to tell your fortune. Want a pull?”

  


“Sure.” Moomin sat down next to Joxter. Joxter shuffled Hodgekins’ three cards back into his deck before handing the cards to Moomin, showing him how to shuffle properly.

  


“Why am I shuffling instead of you?”

  


Joxter shrugged, grinning at him. “The cards are vibed with me. If you shuffle them, though, they’ll revibe for you and pull for you. Otherwise I’ll just end up pulling for myself.”

  


Moomin set the cards down. “But you just shuffled for Hodgekins.”

  


“Because he’s a spoilsport. Now.” Joxter tapped a claw onto the card pile. “Pull one from the top, one from the middle, and one from the bottom, and place them upside down. It’s gonna be a simple reading- past, present, and future, or then, now, and later.”

  


Moomin nodded, pulling the cards and setting them out. Joxter took the rest of the pile and set it aside, out of their way. One by one, Joxter flipped the cards over, eyeing each one carefully as he did.

  


“That middle one is upside down.”

  


“It’s supposed to be. My my, what an interesting pull though.” Joxter grinned, holding up the first card. “Well, let’s begin, shall we? The Wheel of Fortune, upright. Good fortune, or a turning point in one’s life, a big change. Ah, and The Lovers, reversed.” Joxter set down the first card and picked up the second card. “A warning of disharmony or imbalance, possibly in a relationship, whether platonic or romantic.”

  


“I thought the Lovers would be a good card?” Moomin asked

  


Joxter flipped the card so it was in its proper, upright position. “Upright, yes, it’s a sign of harmony and a happy relationship. But you pulled it upside down, which suggests the opposite. Reversed effects, if you will. Maybe an arguement, of sorts?” He set the card down, back to its upside down position, and picked up the third card. “And then, The World, upright, for your future. Suggests your future will be welcomed with open arms, and whatever past you have will be met with peace. Always a fine card to have.”

  


“I think,” said Hodgekins loudly, “That this is a bunch of hogwash, and you’ve got no reason to believe it seriously, Moomin.”

  


Joxter scoffed, shuffling the cards back together. “The cards have never been proven wrong! You’re just a nonbeliever, Mister Magician.” Without even peeking to the deck in his hands, Joxter pulled a random card from the deck and held it up to Hodgekins- The Magician, like he had said.

  


“Look, Hodgekins!” Joxter said excitedly. “It’s The Magician, a man of science like you! And he seems to have something to say to you!” He leaned in close, speaking in a high, squeaky voice. “Hoooooodgekins! Liiiiiisten to the caaaaaards! We’re right, you knooooow?”

  


Hodgekins laughed, pushing Joxter’s face away from his own. “They’re bullshit, Moomin. Don’t take it to heart.”

  


“Rude!” Joxter complained.

  


\---

  


“Hodgekins!” Muddler ran back up to the ship, flailing his arms wildly. “Hodgekins! Moomin! Joxter got arrested!”

  


“What?” Moomin dropped the crate he had been carrying, running over to the railing. “What happened?!”

  


Hodgekins sighed, climbing down the ladder. “Muddler, stay here with the ship. Moomin and I will take care of it.” He shook his head. “I swear, all I asked of you two was to find a replacement part for the engine.”

  


Moomin followed Hodgekins down the ladder, and towards the town. “I hope Joxter isn’t in too much trouble.”

  


“Who knows. The mayor of this town is a hemulen. Hemulens and mumriks never get along.” Hodgekins huffed, and stopped at a merchant’s stall. “Hey! Do you know what happened with the mumrik?”

  


The fillyjonk shuddered, glaring at them. “Are you friends with that- feral thing?! You better get your pet under control! It went completely feral and attacked someone! It took three officers to subdue it!”

  


“Oh dear.” Hodgekins quickly turned and began briskly walking to the police station. “Booble, I hope he didn’t hurt anyone too badly.”

  


“Has.. he? Before?” Moomin asked nervously, playing with the tip of his tail.

  


“Once. In his defense, he had been attacked first. But I’ve never heard of him just going ‘completely feral’. Not that I trust what a fillyjonk says.” Hodgekins entered the police station, and walked over to the desk with a heavy sigh. “Hello. I’m here for the mumrik.”

  


The police officer behind the counter scowled at them, holding a soaked rag to his eye. “Do you have any idea how much trouble your little pet caused? He attacked an unarmed hemulen. It took three police officers to stop him. We had to shut down the farmer’s market early! You’re better off leaving the feral thing here.”

  


“He’s not our pet,” Hodgekins answered.

  


Moomin leaned against the counter, frowning. “That doesn’t sound like him at all though. He’d never hurt someone without a good reason. He’s not a bad person.”

  


“Well, he did! If you’re just going to stand here and argue, I’m going to have to ask you to leave!”

  


Hodgekins shook his head. “No, no. We’re here to bail him. We’ll be leaving this town today, officer.”

  


As Hodgekins continued to talk with the officer behind the counter, Moomin followed another down the hall. In the cellhold, Joxter was sitting in the corner, with an odd racoonish, plant looking creature sitting in his lap. He was carefully grooming a small cut on the creature’s temple with his tongue, but his ears perked up when he heard footsteps approaching.

  


“Heyo, Moomin!”

  


Moomin laughed weakly. “You’re always getting in trouble, aren’t you?”

  


“Yep!”

  


The officer opened the cell door before warily backing away. Joxter stood up, with the small creature clinging to his jacket, and proudly marched out of the cell, sending the officer a particularly nasty look.

  


Hodgekins pinched his nose bridge. “Joxter.”

  


“Hodgekins,” Joxter replied.

  


“What in the name of Booble is that thing?”

  


Joxter looked down at the small creature and shrugged. “It’s a woodie. It probably got lost, because it wandered into town.”

  


“I think it’s adorable!” Moomin leaned down and offered a paw out to the woodie. It chittered at him, quickly burying its face into Joxter’s jacket.

  


“Moomin, no. We are not keeping any creatures, especially forest ones. We don’t even know what it eats!” Hodgekins pushed both boys out of the police station.

  


“Tree bark, mostly,” Joxter said. “And local fruit.”

  


“NO, Joxter.”

  


Joxter shrugged, pulling himself away from Hodgekins. “It’s fine, a ship is no place to raise a woodie, so I wouldn’t want it anyways. I’d rather return it to its colony. I’ll be back to the ship in a little while, I’m going to take this little guy back.” He turned, quickly walking away to the forest line outside of town.

  


Hodgekins shook his head and nudged Moomin slightly. “Go with him, please, so they don’t arrest him again.”

  


“Yes sir!” Moomin took off after Joxter, who had stopped amongst the underbrush, seemingly waiting for him.

  


Joxter shot Moomin a large smile. “Knew you’d be coming!”

  


“Hodgekins said he didn’t want you getting in trouble again!”

  


“Hmm. How thoughtful of him.” Joxter stuck his claws into a tree, peeling off some of the bark, and gave it to the woodie as he began trekking into the forest. The woodie chirruped happily, quickly beginning to gnaw at the bark. Joxter made an odd, chirrup-y noise back at it. 

  


“You understand it?”

  


“Sorta. It’s like speaking Finnish to someone who speaks Hungarian. You’ll understand the basics.”

  


“I see.” Moomin gently pet the woodie’s head. “How’d you find it anyways? And what happened in town?”

  


Joxter shrugged, looking quite pleased with himself. “The little guy wandered into town, probably lost. He snacked on some fruit from a vendor, as little forest creatures tend to do, and got kicked for it.”

  


“How awful! What happened then?”

  


Joxter smiled pridefully. “I gave that hemulen a what for. I don’t think he’ll mess with any forest creatures again after the scare I gave him. Ah! Here we are.” 

  


“What? But I don’t see any other woodies?” Moomin whipped his head around, but he couldn’t even see a sign of a woodie nearby. Not that he’d particularly know what a sign of a woodie would look like in the first place…

  


Joxter cleared his throat and pointed up. Moomin’s gaze followed the tree trunk up, towards the top and- oh! At the lowest branch above them, a couple other woodies were sitting and staring down at them. They almost perfectly blended in with the foliage. Joxter laughed at Moomin’s surprise. He pulled the woodie off of his jacket and set him down on the ground. He made a few of chirruping noises to the woodie, which slowly blinked at him and chirruped back. Joxter patted its head, and the woodie began crawling up into the tree to join its colony.

  


“Feel better now?”

  


“Yes.” Joxter shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, peering up into the tree. “You’ve got to treat the trees with respect, after all.”

  


“What?” Moomin gave Joxter an odd look. “What on earth are you talking about? I’ve never heard that before.”

  


“Oh, nothing.” Joxter turned away from the tree. “Just a mumrik suspersition. Let’s head back to the ship, I want to see what type of town we’ll run into next.”

  


\---

  


“What’s with the leaves you got there?”

  


Joxter didn’t look up from where he was fiddling with a variety of red and orange leaves in different shapes and sizes, and a small handful of twine.

  


“Leaf boats,” he hummed. Moomin sat down next to him, watching as Joxter bent and folded another leaf, tying the loose ends with another bit of twine. With a flourish, Joxter presented a small leaf boat to Moomin before setting it down on the deck.

  


“Neat. What do you do with them?”

  


Joxter shrugged, picking up another red leaf and beginning to fold it. “A variety of things. If you use red string, it’s good luck. If you add a candle, you’re honoring the dead. Just as is, like this, and it’s just a little wish.”

  


“Really?” Moomin picked up the leaf boat, turning it in his hands. “It doesn’t look like much.”

  


“I suppose, but the simplicity of it is what gives it the magical properties.” Joxter grinned at Moomin as he finished the second leaf boat. “Want to launch them with me? You can make a wish of your own.”

  


“Sure.” Moomin got up, tucking the boat underneath his arm with caution. Joxter leapt up to his feet, his own boat dangling from his fingers as he leapt over the side railing and landed barefoot onto the sandy river bank. Moomin slid down the ladder as Joxter walked downshore, and ran to catch up to him.

  


“How do you make the wish?”

  


“You just put it in the water and make your wish.” Joxter stepped into the water, crouching down and released his leaf boat into the water. Lazily, it drifted and bobbed in the water, away from the shore, and was swept away by the river current. A gentle breeze swept through Joxter’s hair as he stood up, dusting his pants off at sand, and he turned to Moomin, smiling at him. Soft sunbeams filtered through the leaves from the trees above them, a muted highlight upon Joxter’s pale skin.

  


Moomin jolted, realizing Joxter was waiting for him, and moved towards the water, placing his leaf boat in it. There wasn't a single wish on his mind.

  


“What did you wish for?” 

  


Joxter shrugged, shoving his paws into his jacket pockets. “Safe travels, from storms, mostly.”

  


“Me too,” Moomin said.


	2. Chapter 2

Of all the people he had to go and rescue, it had to be a hemulen. Moomin slumped forward with a sigh, wishing that his luck wasn’t so downright horrible. Hodgekins didn’t seem to be taking it too terribly, only looking slightly annoyed with the world around him, but as the hemulen continued to lecture Joxter about his rather unkempt appearance, Joxter’s glare only grew more and more hateful and rebellious. Oh dear, Moomin at least hoped Joxter would have the sense not to maime her if she tried to put a bow on his tail.

  


“And you, the moomin!” The hemulen turned to moomin, planting her hands on her hips. “Stop slouching! It’s such terrible posture, you’ll get cricks in your spine that won’t ever come out!” Moomin quickly straightened as the hemulen continued. “Oh, and we must thin out that unruly thick fur of yours, and you will look much nicer!”

  


“Well, I think Moomin looks just fine!” Joxter snapped in retaliation. Moomin and Muddler both quickly swung their heads to the bristling mumrik. “His coat is lovely, and if you try to take shears or scissors to it, I’ll bite your hand! You wouldn’t like it if someone cut your own hair!”

  


For a moment, the hemulen and Joxter stared each other down, with Joxter bristling and his tail lashing about behind him. Then the hemulen turned around, sticking her snout into the air.

  


“We will discuss this later! For now, it is nearly suppertime, so I shall go and prepare you children some proper, nutritional food!”

  


“I can cook just fine, ma’am.” Hodgekins quickly followed the hemulen as she stormed into their cooking area. 

  


Moomin turned to Joxter. “Do you really think my fur is lovely?”

  


Joxter looked bewildered for a moment, as if he was only just recalling what he had said, but nodded in honesty. “Yes. I think it suits you well, and it looks soft. Much better than mine.” He waved an arm, referencing to the thick fur covering his own paws and arms, up to the elbows.

  


Moomin gasped, insistently shaking his head. “No, don’t say that! Your black coat gives you a rogue-ish look. It’s quite dashing.”

  


Joxter stared at Moomin, a bright red hue overtaking his face. Quickly, he yanked the brim of his hat down, covering his face. Behind them, Muddler burst into a fit of giggles.

  


\---

  


“And here I thought I was the only one who hid when I was upset.” Joxter swung himself into the crow’s nest, right next to Moomin. “What’s got our resident marshmallow all in the dumps, huh?”

  


Moomin shook his head a little sadly. “It’s nothing. You’d think me silly for being upset about it.”

  


“If it makes you upset, it’s not silly. Even if it seems irrational to me, it’s very real to you. Everyone sees the world, and their problems, different from anyone else.” Joxter batted Moomin’s shoulder, not enough to even faintly sting, but enough to get Moomin to turn and face him. “Do you want to talk about it? I may not understand, but I know moomintrolls are social creatures. Maybe it’ll help you feel better.”

  


“Well, alright, but you better not laugh at me,” Moomin huffed, resting his chin on his knees. “It’s just, sometimes when you talk about the adventures you’ve had, it makes me feel like an incompitant adventurer. I mean, we’ve been travelling on this boat for a while, but nothing exciting has happened. Except for the Hemulen.”

  


“I wouldn’t call the Hemulen exciting.”

  


“Exactly! And you’ve already gone on all these adventures, tricking fae, and meeting witches, and the sort. I’m a rubbish adventurer, and you’re such a fantastic one, and I can’t help myself from comparing.”

  


Joxter hummed slightly, in neither confirmation or denial. He drummed his fingers against his knee, looking out to the horizon around them, like he was thinking about the words to say. After a minute, he took his pipe out, packed it with tobacco, or at least, that’s what Moomin hoped it was, and lit it.

  


“Well, for starters,” Joxter began after another minute of thought, letting the thick, strong smelling smoke expel from his mouth. “I think you’re quite wrong, my friend. I’m not an adventurer.”

  


“But-!” Moomin began to cry, but Joxter held up a finger, and continued.

  


“I’m not. I’m a traveller. A tramp, or a vagabond, if you will. And inbetween adventures, there are very long periods of travel where simply nothing exciting happens. The difference is an adventurer goes out looking for the adventure, but the traveller lets the adventure come to him. I am a traveller, and you are an adventurer. You can’t compare two things that are different.”

  


Moomin frowned, as Joxter put the pipe back to his mouth and took another drag. This time, Joxter blew the smoke out before he continued again.

  


“Besides, Moomee, it’s not as if all my adventures took place in a single year. I’ve been travelling for nearly ten years now.”

  


“That is an awfully long time, I suppose.” Moomin uncurled from his ball, stretching out his arms. “There must’ve been a ton of dull moments like this, except you probably didn’t think of them as dull like I do.”

  


“Not at all.”

  


Moomin nodded in agreement, before turning to look at Joxter again with a confused look. “Did you call me ‘Moomee’?”

  


Joxter froze with his pipe in his mouth.

  


“Perhaps,” he said slowly. “If I had called you a nickname, would it have bothered you?”

  


“Not if I could also give you a nickname. If you had, of course.”

  


“Of course,” Joxter repeated, with an uncontrollable grin on his face.

  


\---

  


“If we’re going to have a campfire like this, we should really have someone telling stories,” Moomin pointed out. “It’s a lovely summer night for it.”

  


Joxter stood up as fast as lightning from the log he had been sitting on, a maniacal grin etched into his face.

  


“Oh no,” Hodgekins said in a monotone voice, although there was evidence of humor on his face. “Look what you’ve done, Moomin. You’ve gotten him started. Mumriks never turn down the opportunity for a story.”

  


“There’s always a good time for a story,” Joxter laughed. With a flourish, he picked up their water bucket and dumped it on the fire, reducing it to a few small, flickering flames.

  


“Um, Joxter?” Muddler asked, “Moomin said we should have someone telling stories, not that we should put the fire out.”

  


Joxter set the bucket back aside. “I didn’t put it out fully, I’m just setting the mood. Now now, what story should I tell?”

  


Moomin rested his elbows on his knees. “I’ve got an idea. When we were helping the woodie go back to its clan, you said something about needing to treat the trees with respect, and said it was a mumrik superstition. Why don’t you tell us about that?”

  


Joxter’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. Moomin opened his mouth to speak, but Joxter tipped his head, the brim of his hat covering his eyes.

  


“Long before we named any of the gods we know now, there was.. Well, there was something. No one has even been sure what he is. He’s older than anyone can count, than anyone can trace back in history. He towers above everyone else, a giant amongst other giants, with a body made of tree bark, creaking and cracking as he slowly lumbers across this world. No one knows what his name was, but we call him Cypress today.”

  


Joxter stepped away from the campfire, slowly circling the area where everyone was sitting. “Cypress wanders this world, and for the longest time, he was alone. No creature would come close, no being would stay, instead choosing to turn tail and run far, far away.”

  


“And one day, that loneliness became to be too much for Cypress to bare. So he knelt by the bank of a great river, and dug his hands into the clay in the river banks. From the clay, he made a small creature to be his son. He made the creation with claws and sharp fangs, to protect himself in the forests, gave his son night eyes and sharp ears, to be able to detect things in the night to hide, and a tail with which to balance himself with. And when he decided his creation was perfect, Cypress breathed the air of life into its lungs, and the creature became his son, and his name was Micheal.”

  


“Micheal followed Cypress wherever he went, learning to hunt, to scavenge, and learning about the nature that they lived in. And for once, in a very long time, Cypress was happy. But then one night, something terrible happened. When Cypress awoke, Micheal was gone.”

  


“What happened to Micheal..?” Moomin asked hesitantly.

  


Joxter shrugged. “No one knows, but he was gone. Cypress was absolutely distraught. Some people say he died of heartbreak, and where he died, the first cypress tree grew. Others say he still roams our forests, looking for his lost son. They say when you hear the forests moaning, and the trees cracking, that Cypress is nearby.”

  


The trees around them rustled in the wind, and deep off into the forest, there was a loud crack. Joxter froze. There was a few seconds of silence, before there was a thunderous crash that echoed through the forest. A large flock of birds rose into the air off in the distance.

  


“He’s here,” Joxter whispered.

  


Muddler screamed, leaping up and taking off towards the ship.

  


Hodgekins jumped up and ran after him. “Muddler! Muddler, it’s fine! Everything is fine!”

  


“What was that?” Moomin whispered, horrified.

  


Joxter laughed slightly. “A tree falling somewhere in the wind, I think. Muddler’s face was priceless, though.” He sat back down on his log, smiling. “I couldn’t help but just go along with it.”

  


Moomin laughed with him, sticking a few more sticks into the fire to start it back up. “Well, you tell stories in such a lovely way. I hope I’m as good as you when it comes to telling stories.”

  


“I’m sure you will.” Joxter laid out on the log, covering his eyes with his hat, a soft smile on his face. “I’m sure you will, Moomee.”

  


\---

  


“Why are you taking my blanket?”

  


Joxter paused, his arms full of blankets, with two pillows jammed under his chin. He stared blankly at Moomin, like he was unsure of what to do now that he had been caught. Moomin put his paws on his hips, staring expectantly.

  


“Making a blanket pile?” Joxter offered.

  


“By taking blankets from my hammock? And my pillow, while you’re at it.”

  


“It’s going to be very clear out tonight. I thought maybe you’d want to star watch? And sleep above deck.”

  


“I don’t know much about stars. I’ll probably just fall asleep.”

  


Joxter perked up, tail twitching in excitement. “That’s okay! I can answer your questions. Oh please, Moomee, it’ll be delightful.”

  


“Maybe.” Moomin pulled the blankets out of Joxter’s arms, feeling the material between his fingers. “These blankets are a little thin, we’d probably need something a bit thicker to stay warm. We can make tea or cocoa to help, as well.”

  


Joxter’s eyes glinted with mischief. “In the holding bridge, there’s a crate with a thick duvet in it. Don’t think he’d miss it very much.”

  


“I don’t think so. I’ll go get it.” Moomin put his blankets back in his hammock, and ran down to the storage bridge. The duvet was in one of the already open crates, wine red in color and made of soft velvet, perfect to keep warm during the night. Moomin bundled it up into his arms as much as he could, and carried it back above deck, dumping it in an empty area before retrieving some pillows.

  


Joxter trotted over with another armful of pillows, and a thermos tucked under his arm. With a wide grin, Joxter set aside the thermos and helped Moomin set out the duvet and pillows into a comfy pile to sleep on.

  


“Think we have enough pillows?” Moomin asked sarcastically.

  


“Nope!” Joxter laughed, dropping back into the pillows and stretching out. “You never have enough pillows.” Moomin laughed with him, sitting down next to him.

  


“What type of tea did you make?” Moomin reached over and grabbed the thermos, opening it and taking a large whiff. “It smells good.”

  


“It’s my own kinda blend. Black tea, but I’ve added a couple things. Nettles, ginger, licorice. Little bit of orange peel shavings for flavor. I usually make it when my forebodings get bad.” Joxter propped himself up, taking the cap of the thermos and pouring a little bit of the tea into it. “Here, try it.” 

  


Moomin took the thermos lid, taking another whiff, before he hesitantly tasted it.

  


“Oh, it’s kinda spicy!”

  


“Dude, it’s got ginger and orange, I’m not sure what you were expecting.” Joxter laughed, drinking from the thermos before capping it again after Moomin finished his cap full. 

  


“Maybe add sugar next time.” Moomin lied down, snuggling into the duvet, looking up into the sky that seemed to blanket them from above. The sun was just beginning to set, and the first stars were blinking and shining into existence in the darkening sky.

  


Joxter scooted a bit closer to Moomin and pointed up. “See that star? That one, right there- it’s actually not a star! It’s a planet, named Venus.”

  


“Watch,” Joxter whispered, his breath lightly brushing against Moomin’s ear, making it twitch.

  


Moomin looked back up, squinting up at the dot. It almost seemed like it was-

  


“Is it moving?”

  


“Bingo! Stars don’t move quickly, so if it looks like it’s moving, it’s a planet or something else.” Joxter moved his hand, pointing to a star a bit lower in the sky. “That one’s a star though- Polaris, the North Star.”

  


“Why’s it called that?”

  


“It rests at the highest point north. Sailors use it as a guide for when they sail at night, since it’s reliable. It’s part of the constellation Ursa Minor. Or the Little Dipper, depending on who you talk to.” Joxter traced a path between a group of stars.

  


“That looks more like a ladle to me.”

  


“You gotta use your imagination for most constellations, but yeah, I agree. Oh, that star- that’s Sirus, the brightest star in the sky. Also the closest one to us.”

  


“It almost looks a little blue!”

  


Joxter’s hand dropped to his stomach. “That’s because it is! Stars come in a lot of different colors- red, orange, blue, yellow, and white. A lot of them are too far away to see what color they are, though, so they end up looking white.”

  


Moomin smiled, turning his head just the slightest to look at Joxter. “Tell me more?”

  


\---

  


“Moomee, wake up!” Joxter jumped into Moomin’s hammock, shaking Moomin awake as it swung side to side. “Moomee, quickly, you’ve got to see this!”

  


“What? What’s going on? What’s wrong, what happened?” Moomin sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Joxter leapt out of the hammock, grabbing Moomin’s paws and eagerly pulling him along.

  


Moomin yelped. “Wait! Shouldn’t we wake Muddler and Hodgekins?”

  


“No time!” Joxter didn’t even bother to pull on his boots as he swiftly slid down the ladder of the Oshun Oxtra- he was still even in pajamas. (Well, Moomin’s extra set of pajamas. Joxter’s had been beyond saving after the Hemulen used them to clean up spilled jelly.)

  


Moomin slid down the ladder, and the second his feet touched the ground, Joxter took off into the forest, slinking around on all fours.

  


“Hey, wait for me!” Moomin took off running after him, and had to keep up a steady jog to not get left behind, as Joxter leapt from tree to tree with ease. In the night, Joxter blended in the shadows, despite wearing pastel blue pajamas, and the rustling branches above Moomin’s head were the only clue to Joxter’s whereabouts.

  


“Whatever this is,” Moomin huffed, struggling to keep up, “Better be good, if it’s got you jumping about like a feral cat.”

  


“Shh!” Joxter hung upside down from a branch, hissing at Moomin. He jumped down from the tree, and climbed into the underbrush that surrounded a perfectly circular clearing. “Be quiet and sit, or you might scare them off.”

  


“Scare what off?” Moomin asked in a hushed whisper. Joxter only motioned to him, so Moomin sat down next to him and peeked over the bush as well.

  


At first, Moomin saw nothing in the clearing but a circle of abnormally large mushrooms. However, the moment he opened his mouth to accuse Joxter of playing a trick on him, he saw a flash of light that stole all of his attention. Moomin squinted, leaning forward more.

  


And then he heard the music.

  


It sounded quite faint, like a band warming up, but if Moomin paid close attention to it, he could pick up on it. And there was no wonder why it seemed so faint- On each mushroom cap sat a fairy, each warming up on their own individual instruments, and if Moomin looked up, there were the rest of the fairies, drifting down from above as if just now arriving to a party. They laughed and chattered with each other, their voices sounding like hundreds of tinkling silver bells.

  


“Aren’t they beautiful?” Joxter whispered. “Fairies only dance on Blue Moons, it’s so rare to find a fae circle while they’re still dancing.”

  


Moomin nodded, trying to lean even closer. “Oh, yes. It’s so beautiful.”

  


A loud, tinkling noise erupted in Moomin’s ear, causing him to flail and fall backwards. The loud tinkling continued as the fairy darted out from behind him, laughing before she flew over to Joxter, chattering indistinctly and kissing his nose before flitting off.

  


“How come you got a kiss and not me?” Moomin grumbled, sitting back up. “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

  


Joxter chuckled, ducking his head and reaching for his hat, to presumably pull the brim down and hide his face. When his hand met empty air, Joxter opted to instead fuss with a lock of hair instead. Moomin could see a ruddy hue growing high on Joxter’s cheeks, and felt his heart skip a beat.

  


A handful of fairies fluttered into the bush, grabbing at Moomin’s fingers and pushing at his shoulders. Moomin quickly got up, letting the fairies nudge him in the direction they wanted. They pulled him into the clearing, and Joxter quickly followed, urged on by his own entourage of fairies.

  


Just as fast as the fairies had appeared, they fluttered away again. One of the fairies from up above floated down to them. She was a bit taller than the rest of the fairies, about as tall as Moomin’s hand, and her gown of silky rose petals seemed more elegant and intricate than the rest. Moomin thought that, easily, she was the most beautiful of the fairies present.

  


“Your majesty.” Joxter bowed, then elbowed Moomin.

  


“Oh!” Moomin quickly mimicked Joxter’s bow.

  


The fairy queen giggled, a petite noise that almost sounded like a windchime, and both boys stood back up. She made a grand sweeping motion with her arm, voice chiming as she spoke.

  


“Um, your majesty?” Moomin interrupted, causing the fairy queen to pause. “I’m very sorry, we can’t understand you. Your voice sounds like bells to us.”

  


The fairy queen paused, tapping her cheek in thought. Then she pushed out her arms again, holding out both her hands to them, palms up. She stayed like that, so after a moment, Joxter held out his hands the same way, as a guess of what the fairy queen wanted.

  


The fairy queen took ahold of Joxter’s hand with both of hers, leading him forward. A few other fairies flitted down to his shoulders and arms, gently guiding him this way and that. And then, the fairy band was playing, and Joxter was laughing, dancing in the clearing with the fairies. Joxter twirled, throwing one hand out and scattering a few of the fairies near him. Moomin chuckled and eagerly took it, letting himself be dragged around.

  


“I think,” Joxter said with a mild purr in his voice, “That she was inviting us to join in their dance. Oop- watch the mushrooms, now.”

  


Moomin laughed, letting Joxter guide him in a sort-of dance, sort-of waltz in the clearing. “I guess so! How lovely of her. We’re probably the first few people to ever say we’ve danced with fae.”

  


“Oh, indeed.”

  


The two fell into a comfortable silence as they listened happily to the fairies’ music, enjoying their dance in the clearing.

  


It was this moment, Moomin decided. The slow swaying, Joxter’s gentle guiding, the soft pale glow of the moon on his own white fur and Joxter’s baby blue striped pajamas, the grin on their faces as they danced to the tune of their own laughter, the music, and the sounds of the surrounding forest, is what made Moomin realize what was causing the tightness in his throat, and setting his stomach aflutter, and making his heart pound in his chest. 

  


Joxter tripped over himself as he quickly steered both of them away from nearly stepping inside the fairy circle, and Moomin quickly steadied him. Joxter smiled sheepishly up at him, nose wrinkling up in his wide grin. Moomin couldn’t stop himself from smiling back.

  


He was hopelessly in love with Joxter.

  


  


Moomin’s eyes snapped open, and he quickly sat up.

  


He was most definitely not in his hammock on the Oshun Oxtra. He was still in the clearing, where the fairies had danced. The mushroom circle was still in tact, in the middle of the clearing, and a couple feet away from him, Joxter lay asleep peacefully in the grass.

  


Moomin looked up into the sky. The moon no longer held its blue tint, and looked to be a few nights away from when it had been full.

  


“Oh. Oh no.”

  


Moomin quickly scooted over to Joxter, shaking him. Joxter groaned in response, rolling over, but when Moomin continued to shake him, he opened one eye and looked up at him.

  


Joxter bolted up so quickly that he smacked his head into Moomin’s. Moomin winced, jerking back as Joxter hissed and held his head tenderly with one hand.

  


“Fuck, Moomin, where are we? How long has it been?”

  


“We’re still in the fairy clearing, and I don’t know, but it looks like the moon was full a couple days ago.”

  


Joxter stood up, dusting himself off. “Shit, fuck. Moomin, did you eat or drink anything that they gave you?”

  


“No, did you?”

  


“No.” Joxter pulled Moomin up to his feet. “Cmon, let’s go, hopefully Hodgekins and Muddler didn’t leave without us.”

  


The two quickly took off into the forest, with Joxter in the lead. Moomin felt hopelessly lost, but Joxter seemed to either remember the way they came, or had an innate sense of where they needed to go.

  


Joxter always seemed to know where to go, actually. Maybe that was part of his forebodings. Moomin would have to remember to ask later.

  


Joxter burst out onto the beach, with Moomin hot on his tail. The lighthouse’s beam cut through the night, and they both could see the Oshun Oxtra, still docked where it had been when they had first arrived, who knew how long ago.

  


“Oh, thank Booble,” Moomin whispered. “Cmon, Jox, hopefully they’re still there.”

  


Moomin approached the ship, but the rope ladder wasn’t at the side. He quickly knocked on the hull, shouting up to the ship. “Hello? Muddler, Hodgekins? Will you let us up, please?”

  


“Hopefully they’re not asleep, or we’ll be sleeping in the grass again,” Joxter muttered. “Moomin, I think we got bewitched by the fairies.”

  


“But we didn’t eat any of their food? Or step into their circle.”

  


“Doesn’t matter.” Joxter tried to shove his hands into his pockets, before remembering he was wearing pajamas, and not his normal clothes, and played with a loose string at the end of his sleeve. “If we ate or drank something they gave us, we’d fall asleep forever. If we stepped into their circle, we’d disappear. But they can still bewitch us in other ways, just not permanent ones.”

  


“Joxter? Moomin?” Hodgekins demanded from above. “Where the hell have you two been? It’s been days since we last saw you, and you disappeared in the middle of the night on top of that! With you having got arrested in the last town, we thought something had happened!”

  


“Hullo!” Joxter waved up at them. “We met some fairies and got bewitched temporarily, I believe. Let us up, won’t you?”

  


“You really need to tell us where you’re going before you disappear like that!” Hodgekins scolded again, but dropped the rope ladder down for them nonetheless. Moomin gratefully grabbed hold of it and began climbing up, with Joxter behind him.

  


“We’re very sorry, aren’t we, Joxter?”

  


“No,” Joxter said.

  


Moomin looked back up to Hodgekins. “He doesn’t mean that.”

  


“Yes I do!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in theatre class right now and im posting this, this is peak college life folks


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, right ahead, Hodgekins! There’s a port here!” Muddler pointed off the edge of the ship, slightly to the left. Moomin dropped the box he had been carrying, and ran to the railing next to Muddler. The ship port of a town was coming into view as Hodgekins guided the ship towards an empty dock.

  


There was a loud thump that caused Moomin to stop and look over his shoulder. Joxter had jumped down from the crow’s nest, and padded over to the railing next to them.

  


“Oh, Hathway! I’ve been here before.” Joxter rested against the railing to watch as the town came into view.

  


“You have?” Moomin asked.

  


Muddler tugged on Joxter’s sleeve. “What’s it like then, Joxter? Is it a nice town?”

  


“The townsfolk are nice enough. I know the bartender. She’s been supplying me with drinks for years, because she’s a halvsie.”

  


“Halvsie?” Muddler questioned.

  


“Half mumrik, half something else. But who cares about that?” Joxter leaned over the railing slightly, pointing to the mountain behind the town. “Hathway’s known for its hot springs. I always visit them when I’m nearby.”

  


“Hot Springs!” Moomin laughed, gripping the railing excitedly. “Oh, wow! I’ve always wanted to see a hot spring!”

  


“Well, they’re nice for soaking in too, if you can find one shallow enough.” Joxter’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Bet I could get a bottle of whiskey from the bar too.”

  


“Absolutely not.” Hodgekins pushed past them to tie the ship to the dock. “All three of you aren’t drinking age. There will be no purchasing of alcohol.”

  


There was a pause, and Hodgekins poked his head back over the railing again. “And no stealing it either!”

  


Moomin looked back to Joxter when Hodgekins disappeared again. Joxter shrugged, a wide smirk on his face. Moomin knew he wouldn’t directly disobey Hodgekins, or he might be kicked off, after getting arrested and then bewitched by fairies in the same week a while ago, but Moomin had no doubt that Joxter was planning a way around it.

  


“It’s the afternoon now,” Joxter contemplated. “We can explore the town now, and visit the hot spring after dark when there’s less people there.”

  


“That sounds like a wonderful idea! Maybe I could find some new buttons to add to my collection..” Muddler started down the ladder, with Joxter and Moomin sliding down after him.

  


“Moomin!” Hodgekins yelled, “Don’t let Joxter get into trouble again!”

  


“I’ll try!” Moomin followed as the other two headed into the town. They followed Muddler around for a while, but as the son began to set, Joxter peeled off from the rest of the group and began walking away from them.

  


Muddler nodded in agreement. “You should, just in case. Meet up at the hotsprings later?”

  


“Yep! See you there!”

  


Moomin followed Joxter, who disappeared into an alley and was making a beeline to the tavern.

  


“Hodgekins said no buying or stealing alcohol,” Moomin reminded him.

  


Joxter had an amused glint in his eye. “But he didn’t say I couldn’t visit a friend. Which is what I’m doing.”

  


Joxter stepped into the tavern, immediately walking over to the bar and sitting down. Moomin hesitantly sat down next to him, and Joxter rested his elbows on the counter, chin propped up on his hands and a sly grin on his face. Within seconds, a redheaded girl approached them from behind the bar. Judging from her furred ears and paws, and a thin tail swishing behind her, Moomin supposed this was the half mumrik Joxter had referenced to. However, there was a distinct lack of the light, velvety soft fur on her nose like Joxter’s.

  


“I was hoping you’d be around.”

  


The redheaded girl giggled, playing with a strand of hair. “Joxaren, it’s so good to see you again. Has your travelling faired you well?” The way she had said Joxter’s name had that slight, rough noise to it, almost a growl but not quite, the same sound that Joxter sometimes had in his voice when he said mumrik-originated names, when he told stories. Something told Moomin if he tried to say it that way, it wouldn’t sound nearly close.

  


“As well as always, but I must say, it’s quite lovely to be back in a place I know again.”

  


The barmaid giggled, and Joxter gave her a playful smile. Something hot and bitter curled in Moomin’s stomach as the two conversed. He’d never seen Joxter so relaxed talking to someone before in such a crowded, noisy area- even with Moomin, Joxter would start getting agitated with the crowd of people, but with the barmaid, it seemed like not even the drunken singing from the other corner of the room was a bother. Moomin didn’t know what the barmaid had done to earn Joxter’s attention like- like THIS, but it made him want nothing more than to take one of the half full glasses from the sleeping sailor next to him and dump it on the girl. That thought only made Moomin feel worse.

  


“How long will you be staying?” the barmaid asked.

  


Joxter reached over and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Not too long. We’ve only really stopped for supplies and to visit the hot springs before we left. Most likely, we’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”

  


The barmaid grabbed his hand, holding it tightly in both of her own. “Oh, so soon? It’s been some time since you’ve last stopped by. Might you visit again, before you leave?” Joxter grinned. “Perhaps, I might stay longer at the hotsprings than my crewmates.”

  


“And perhaps I might kick out the drunks and close up earlier than usual.”

  


Moomin felt his blood curdle.

  


Joxter chuckled, standing up from the bar, and pulling his hand away. “Then, perhaps we might meet later at the hot springs. I’ll be off then. Cmon, Moomin.” Joxter turned, beginning to leave the bar. Moomin was more than happy to get up and leave.

  


“Wait!” the barmaid cried, coming out from behind the bar. Moomin scowled when Joxter stopped, pushing past him and leaving the bar. He leaned against the wall outside to wait for Joxter to come back out.

  


After about a minute or two, Joxter stepped out of the bar with a large grin on his face. Without a word, he held up a rather nice looking bottle of whiskey for Moomin to see, before slipping it into Moomin’s bag.

  


“And that! Is how you get free alcohol.”

  


“Are you done, you harlot?” Moomin snapped.

  


“Ouch, that’s not nice.” Joxter’s grin melted into a soft frown.

  


That is.. Not what Moomin had intended to do. He sighed softly, standing up from against the wall. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.” They began walking towards the base of the mountain. “Who was that, anyways?”

  


“An old friend, I guess, like I said before. She’s given me shelter from a few terrible storms before.” Joxter shrugged. “We’ve ran into each other a bunch on our separate travels, so we usually exchange stories with each other.”

  


Moomin wrinkled his nose in distaste. “So, a lover or what?”

  


“That’s not what I said. She’s just someone who I’ve run into a couple times.” Joxter shot Moomin a disappointed look. “What’s got your tail in a twist, jeez.”

  


Moomin wilted slightly, not knowing what to say. What could he say, that he had recently discovered he loved Joxter? Absolutely not, more likely than not, Joxter with his no-attachments lifestyle, would just simply leave and never return. For a lack of better thing to say, he apologized again. Joxter gave a hum of acknowledgement, setting their bag down next to the hotspring.

  


Hodgekins and Muddler had already switched to their bathing suits, relaxing in the steaming water. Moomin quickly joined them as Joxter shed his jacket and shirt, opting to roll his pants legs up rather than change.

  


“Oh! I almost forgot!” Joxter pulled the bottle out of the bag with a grin.

  


Hodgekins scowled. “Joxter. What did I say?”

  


Joxter ripped the cork out of the bottle with his teeth, laughing. “You said no buying or stealing, but you didn’t say I couldn’t accept a gift from a friend!” He took a quick swig from the bottle before offering it to the glowering Hodgekins. “Cmoooon, you know you want to! It’s the good shit.”

  


Hodgekins snatched the bottle away, still scowling, and drank from it. Joxter laughed, slipping into the hot spring. Muddler giggled with him, taking the bottle next, but quickly passed it onto Moomin with a face, deciding he didn’t like it. Moomin eyed the bottle before taking a large gulp from it.

  


“I don’t know how people drink that stuff,” Muddler complained. “It tastes like pen ink!”

  


Joxter choked from laughter, nearly dropping the bottle into the water. Hodgekins leaned over and gave Joxter a hearty thwack on the shoulder when he began choking, and took the bottle back.

  


Joxter coughed a bit, eyes watering. “Muddler, holy shit. That’s probably the funniest comparison I’ve ever heard.” He hit his chest with his fist, coughing slightly. “Oof. It is a bit of an acquired taste.”

  


“You can add stuff to make it sweeter, sometimes,” Hodgekins mumbled.

  


“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t care for it much either,” Moomin offered. “I usually prefer sweet grasswine. It’s much better.”

  


Joxter hummed slightly, popping his knuckles. Almost as if for good measure, his wrists cracked as well.

  


“What’s the forecast?” Hodgekins asked in amusement.

  


“Barmaid, in three, two, one-” Joxter quickly stood up, throwing his arm out. The barmaid came crashing through the underbrush, nearly falling into the water but stopped at the last second when Joxter caught her.

  


“Careful! Nearly got your dress wet.” Joxter grinned, causing the barmaid to giggle. Moomin scowled, taking an extra large gulp and standing up.

  


“I’m going back to the ship.” Moomin climbed out of the hot spring, shaking himself free of the excess water before leaving the hot spring. Shortly after, Hodgekins and Muddler caught up with him.

  


“You seem mildly upset,” Hodgekins observed. “As soon as the girl appeared.”

  


“It’s stupid and doesn’t matter,” Moomin muttered and crossed his arms, looking ahead.

  


Hodgekins shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, she seemed like the frivolous type. Wouldn’t make a good girlfriend.”

  


Moomin scowled. “I don’t like the barmaid! I think she’s stupid and her voice annoys me.”

  


“So,” Muddler asked hesitantly, “Then is it Joxter, who you like?”

  


Moomin froze, and Hodgekins and Muddler stopped beside him. They both looked at him expectantly. Moomin felt very, very embarrassed. He had walked right into that one, and who knew how they were going to respond-

  


Wordlessly, Muddler held his hand out to Hodgekins, who sighed and placed a couple of gold coins into his hand.

  


“Excuse me?” Moomin demanded.

  


Muddler shrugged. “I bet you liked Joxter, Hodgekins bet on the barmaid. You said you didn’t like the barmaid, so I was right.”

  


“I never said I liked Joxter!”

  


“No, but your face does.” Hodgekins laughed, pushing both boys down along the path. “Come along, then, back to the ship.”

  


\---

  


“Moomee. Psst. Moomee, wake up.”

  


Moomin groaned, rolling over in his hammock. “No, five more minutes.”

  


An inky black paw reached out and batted at Moomin’s face, claws safely tucked away. Moomin wrinkled his nose- the paw was wet and slimy with water.

  


“Moomee! Wake up!”

  


“Oh, Booble. What is it, Jox?” Moomin sighed, sitting up in the hammock. He could see the vague shape of the mumrik sitting in the hammock, but he knew Joxter, with his nighteyes, could see him perfectly.

  


“Happy birthday, Moomee!”

  


“Oh, I suppose that is today, isn’t it?” Moomin rubbed his eyes. “Why’d you wake me up so early then?”

  


“I didn’t want your present to go bad!” Joxter cried gleefully. “Hold on, I’ve got it here!” The shadowed shape of Joxter shifted, leaning out of the hammock. When he sat back, the shape of his face was distorted, like he was holding something in his mouth. Joxter leaned forward and dropped the item on Moomin’s stomach.

  


Something that was also wet and slimy.

  


“Joxter.”

  


“Yes, Moomee?”

  


“Did you just drop a dead fish on me?”

  


  


“And then he dropped a dead fish in your lap?”

  


Moomin nodded, stirring the pot on the stove. “He dropped a dead fish in my lap. I mean, it definitely was an impressive looking catch, but still.”

  


Hodgekins chuckled, setting his pen down on the blueprint he was working on. “That’s Joxter for you. At least you got the whole fish. I got a gutted rabbit for mine. He said something about organs being too fatty. I just hope the poor thing wasn’t intelligent.”

  


“I was wondering what he was going to do with that fish,” Muddler murmured. “I saw him crawl back into the ship with it in his mouth, looking incredibly pleased with himself.”

  


“Well, this reminds me.” Hodgekins got up from the table and disappeared from the kitchen area. He returned shortly after, and set a book down on the counter next to Moomin. “Happy birthday! Something tells me you might need this.”

  


Moomin put the lid back on the pot. “Oh? What is it?”

  


“A book about mumrik behavior. I got it when I first met Joxter. Mumriks are quite the confusing species.”

  


“I’ll admit, some of Joxter’s habits are a tad confusing, but why would I need the entire book? I could just browse through it and give it back?”

  


Muddler started giggling as Hodgekins grew a knowing look. Moomin felt his neck ruff poof out in embarrassment.

  


“Joooox!” Muddler cried out in a high pitched voice, clearly imitating Moomin. Hodgekins started laughing, and Moomin chased them around the deck for half an hour before he was able to give the both of them a hearty whack with his cooking spoon.

  


\---

  


It was the type of evening where one found sleep to come by incredibly easy. The summer air was thick, and sticky-sweet to the senses. In the twilight glow, the surrounding forests began to settle into sleep, as fireflies lazily drifted from their burrows and made themselves known to the world with blinking lights, and the bull frog’s croaks echoed from the river banks. Every now and then in the distance, you could hear the faint screech of an owl, beginning her nightly hunt for food. The river current gently lapped at the sides of the Oshun Oxtra, gently rocking it and its crew, wrapped in blankets among their gently swinging hammocks below deck, to sleep. And yet, of the motley crew, the one who found sleep the easiest, even in the most uncomfortable of places, was wide awake.

  


Despite the sweetness of the summer air, in all of its allurance, Joxter had slipped out and went up deck, the shutting of the trap door rousing Moomin from his own sleep.

  


Moomin sat up, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. He slipped out of his hammock, and made his way through the dark. He pushed the trap door open, tiredly peering into the moonlight.

Joxter was leaning against the railing of the Oshun Oxtra, tail anxiously whipping back and forth.

  


“Jox?”

  


Joxter made no outwardly motion to move, but his ear flicked in response. Moomin climbed out from below deck, stepping over to him and rubbing his eyes once again.

  


“I thought you’d be long asleep by now.”

  


“Couldn’t.”

  


“But you’re always resting!” Moomin placed a hand on Joxter’s shoulder. Joxter quickly jerked away with a hiss, raising an arm up over his face. They both froze for a minute. Joxter’s arm quickly dropped back to his side, and he glanced at Moomin guiltily.

  


“Sorry. Touch is a little much for me right now.”

“There’s no reason for you to be sorry, I’m sorry for upsetting you!” Moomin leaned against the railing, next to Joxter, but leaving enough room to make certain they wouldn’t touch on accident. “What’s bothering you so much that you can’t sleep?”

  


Joxter side eyed Moomin, before speaking hesitantly.

  


“My head, and my stomach. I had a nightmare of sorts and now I feel downright rotten.”

  


“Do you want to talk about it? It might help you feel better!”

  


“Absolutely not.”

  


“Oh.” Moomin drooped a bit at that, but didn’t press. His mumrik friend was skittish, and pressing him would only make him retreat further. Instead, Moomin resigned to studying Joxter as he stared off into the forest.

  


Joxter’s tail continued to twitch and curl at his side. Moomin couldn’t really recall a time where he’d seen it remain still. It seemed to be always moving, conveying emotions that the mumrik would never otherwise express. Judging from the lazy curling at the tip of his tail, compared to the thrashing from before, Joxter had at least succeeded in calming down. Moomin looked back up to Joxter’s face again, just in time to see his Joxter’s tongue curl out as he bared his fangs in a massive yawn. Moomin giggled in amusement, the mental image of a cat coming to mind. Joxter shot him a curious look, but a small smile graced his face.

  


“If you’re getting tired, you should go back to sleep.”

  


“I think I’d rather stay out here.”

  


“If you’re afraid of having another nightmare, you can sleep with me. I wouldn’t mind at all,” Moomin offered. “The hammocks are plenty big enough for two people.”

  


Joxter’s face got a funny look. He stared at Moomin closely, before pushing himself up from the railing. “Why would you offer that?”

  


“Well, if you can’t sleep by yourself, maybe you’ll sleep better with someone else. Last time I had a nightmare, I slept with Muddler and I slept much better for the rest of the night!” Moomin stopped, hesitating when he remembered how Joxter had been adverse to his touch earlier. “I mean, unless you still don’t want to be touched. That’s okay too.”

  


Joxter tilted his head, narrowing his eyes just the slightest. He gave Moomin another good, long stare before shrugging, apparently finding whatever he had been looking for in Moomin’s expression. “No. I think I’m okay now.”

  


“Great!” Moomin clapped his hands together, turning and trotting back down below the deck. Joxter swiped his hat up from the floor and followed him back below.

  


Moomin climbed back into his hammock, looking to Joxter with a smile. Joxter set his hat down by one of the support beams and grabbed the edge of the hammock before swinging in himself. He remained awkwardly sitting up in the hammock, gripping his designated half of the blanket in a scrunch-release-scrunch pattern with his claws, until Moomin pulled him down.

  


“It really is okay, Joxter. If it helps you sleep better, I’m more than happy to let you sleep in my hammock too.”

  


Joxter gave a non committal hum, rolling over so his back was to Moomin. The hammock swung slightly as the troll repositioned himself, then slowly rested still. After a moments in the silence, Joxter spoke up again.

  


“Moomin?”

  


“Hmm?”

  


“Thank you.”

  


\---

  


“Look out!”

  


Muddler tripped over a floorboard as he tried to catch the barrel he had dropped and was now bouncing around the rocking ship chaotically. Moomin leapt onto a crate, out of the path of destruction. Joxter tried to jump onto the railing to get out of harm’s way, but the barrel careened towards him, smashing into him and knocking him into the ocean.

  


“Joxter!” Muddler shrieked.

  


Moomin hauled himself over the railing, jumping into the water.

  


Joxter was panicking in the water, flailing desperately and trying to keep his head above the waves. Moomin could see the panic in Joxter’s eyes, and by the way he was moving, Moomin could tell the thick material of Joxter’s jacket was dragging him down.

  


“Calm down!” Moomin paddled over, and Joxter immediately latched onto him, claws sinking into Moomin’s shoulder. Moomin winced, but Joxter didn’t relent in his grip, even the slightest, burying his head into the back of Moomin’s neck.

  


“Moomin, over here!” Hodgekins threw the rope ladder over the side of the boat. Moomin paddled over to the ship, and helped Muddler pull Joxter back onto the deck, before climbing back on himself.

  


“Jox, you alright?” Moomin shook the excess water out of his fur. Muddler dropped a towel over Joxter’s shoulder.

  


“Peachy,” Joxter said through chattering teeth.

  


Moomin pulled Joxter up, leading him down below the deck. “Cmon, let’s get you dried off, or you’re going to catch a cold.” Moomin opened the oven, throwing a couple pieces of wood into it before lighting it with a match, to begin heating up below deck. Joxter set his hat down on the table, and began peeling off his soaked jacket.

  


“You going to be alright?”

  


“When I dry off.” Joxter grabbed one of the chairs from the table and sat down near the open oven. “I hate the ocean.”

  


Moomin grabbed another chair and sat with him. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you panic? You could’ve just swum to the ship.”

  


Joxter gave him a funny look. “Mumriks can’t swim.”

  


“What? Not at all? Then why did you come with us? It must be really dangerous for you all the time!”

  


Joxter shrugged. “Well, you three know how to swim. Figured with you guys watching my back, I’d be okay. Figured it’d be okay to bet on my own luck this once.”

  


Moomin chuckled, taking the towel from Joxter’s shoulders and began drying his hair. “I’d be a little concerned about that, you might get a black cat’s luck if you bet on it too much.”

  


“It’s worked well so far.” Joxter poked his head out from underneath the towel, grinning cheekily at Moomin. “Thanks, by the way, for saving my sorry ass.”

  


“You’re welcome. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Moomin smiled softly at him.

  


Joxter gripped the towel, pulling it back down to his shoulders. His hair, now half dried, poofed up in uncontained curls, like an inky black halo around his head. Moomin leaned forward slightly and brushed Joxter’s bangs out of his face. The sound of their breathing echoed in his ears, and Joxter tilted his head slightly into Moomin’s hand, eyes fluttering shut-

  


“I’m coming down, you better have clothes on!” Muddler yelled.

  


Moomin threw himself back into his seat, leaning away from Joxter. Joxter stood up quickly, dropping the towel and pulling his jacket back on, even though it was still pretty damp. Muddler came down the stairs, grinning at them.

  


“Hodgekins says we’ll be docking soon!”

  


“I’ll go tie up the sails.” Joxter grabbed his hat and put it back on, before picking the towel up from the floor and dropping it around Moomin’s shoulders. “Here. You should dry off too, or you’ll catch a cold.”

  


Moomin gripped the towel, watching the small oven fire as Joxter climbed back up deck behind Muddler.

  


\---

  


“How. Dare they,” Joxter hissed. His tail lashed violently around him, fur bristling, and the sharp-fanged sneer stayed on his face. He glared off onto the beach they were approaching to dock at.

  


Moomin padded over to Joxter, placing his hands on the railing. “Jox, what’s wrong?”

  


“Look,” he snapped, and pointed to where the forest met the beach. A section of the forest had been fenced off with wires and chain links, with various signs hung from the wire. “Look. They’re going to make that into a private park. They’re going to cut down all the lovely trees, and trim the grass and all the bushes, and- and, they’re going to make all the forest creatures leave! They can’t just- do that!”

  


“Why not?”

  


Joxter yanked at his ears in frustration, then wildly gestured back to the forest line. “You just- you just can’t! Wildlife isn’t meant to be contained like that! It needs to be free- nobody owns nature! It belongs to everyone!” Joxter’s arms, which had been previously flailing about to prove his point, fell to his side as he stared at the to-be park with a sad face.

  


“That’s an.. Interesting philosophy to have.” Moomin gently patted Joxter’s shoulder. “I’m very sorry that it’s being turned into a park then.”

  


Joxter suddenly turned back to Moomin, grabbing both of the troll’s paws, and- Oh, Booble, Joxter had REALLY gotten into Moomin’s personal space. Moomin blushed beneath his fur as Joxter leaned in close to him, squeezing his paws and gave Moomin the most pitiful puppy eyes he’d ever seen

  


“Um!” Moomin squeaked.

  


“Moomee,” Joxter said in a determined voice, with the look still on his face, and this is definitely it, Moomin thought. This was how he was going to die, teased to death with a honeysuckle sweet voice and a tight grip on both of his paws-

  


“Would you do me the honor of fucking up that Booble-forsaken park with me?” Joxter finished.

  


“Isn’t that illegal?” Moomin asked, voice still lodged into a high pitch. “Pretty sure that’s illegal!”

  


“That makes it more fun! And who cares, it’s an injustice, and it’s not like we’ll get caught. I haven’t gotten caught in a long time. It’ll be so much fun, Moomee!”

  


Moomin glanced over Joxter’s shoulder. Muddler was trying to hide his laughter in his hand, and Hodgekins was giving him that knowing grin again, while shooting a thumbs up. (Moomin was going to whack them with his cooking spoon again.) He looked back to Joxter’s pleading face again, and sighed.

  


“Only if you’re absolutely certain we won’t get caught. I would rather not get arrested for trespassing. Or arson. Or vandalism-”

  


“Oh, I get it, I get it!” Joxter laughed, eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh, just you wait, Moomee, you’re going to have so much fun!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i accidentally implied Joxter has a thing for redheads
> 
> that scene was also edited like 20 times.


	4. Chapter 4

“Psst, Moomee!”

  


Moomin rolled over in his hammock. A shadowed blob with blue eyes hovered next to him, trembling with excitement.

  


“Jox!”

  


“Cmon! You said you’d come destroy that park with me!”

  


“Right now?”

  


“Nighttime is the best time for vandalism. Cmon, let’s go fill this town with crime!” Joxter grabbed Moomin’s paws, yanking him out of the hammock. Moomin let himself be pulled as Joxter excitedly bounded up to the main deck and off the ship.

  


“Do we have a set plan?”

  


The tip of Joxter’s tail twitched and curled with excitement as the two hurried along the beach, towards the fenced off forest. Soft, eager humming came from the wound-up mumrik, fingers twitching as well as his claws extended out.

  


“Plan? Don’t get caught! Things like this are so much more fun without a plan!”

  


“You’re awfully excited about this.”

  


Joxter flashed a grin to Moomin. “It’s exhilarating, ripping up signs and destroying parks. I’ve been doing this for years, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of the thrill.” He grabbed onto the chain fence, and hauled himself over, landing gracefully on his feet. As Moomin (less gracefully) hauled himself over the fence, Joxter began slinking around, tearing up signs and tossing them into a pile with a laugh. Moomin nearly tripped upon himself getting back up from the ground, quickly running over to help. He huffed out a laugh as he uprooted his first sign, tossing it into Joxter’s pile. He was right, this was a little bit thrilling to be breaking the law.

  


“Hey, wait a minute!” Moomin paused in the middle of uprooting a sign. “Jox! This one has your face on it!”

  


Joxter tossed a couple more pieces of wood into the pile before heading over. Moomin ripped up the sign, which had a hilarious caricature of Joxter on it, and handed it to him. The mumrik narrowed his eyes, humming in thought.

  


“You think they got my good side, Moomin?”

  


Moomin snorted, falling into a fit of laughter. Joxter laughed as well, and tossed the sign into the pile with the others, pulling out a box of matches from his pocket.

  


“Moomee, would you like to do the honors?”

  


“Sure.” Moomin took the box, and struck a match. He let it flicker in his paw for a second, before he tossed it onto their makeshift bonfire.

  


The wood crackled and popped as the tiny flame took to the pile, slowly becoming a raging bonfire as the paint peeled back and cracked under the heat. The pleasant smell of woodsmoke and oak filled their air as the bonfire began to roar with intensity. Joxter lit his pipe, holding the stem of it between his teeth after tossing the second used match into the flames, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

  


“You were right,” Moomin spoke softly. “This was rather fun.”

  


Joxter grinned, looking back to Moomin. The light of their impromptu, and definitely illegal, bonfire cast a soft glow on both of them. Joxter’s face was largely covered in shadows, due to his scarf and hat, causing him to look more like a mischievous forest creature than he normally did. 

  


“You look like a toasted marshmallow.”

  


Moomin laughed, elbowing Joxter playfully. “Well, the shadows are making your eyes do funny things!”

  


“Oh?” Joxter raised an eyebrow in amusement. “How so, marshmallow?”

  


“When you look at me- well, your eyes are usually these narrow slits, right? But every time you look at me, they get all big and round, like balloons! It’s quite funny.”

  


Joxter inhaled sharply, snapping his head away from Moomin.

  


Moomin frowned and placed a hand on Joxter’s shoulder. “Jox? What’s wrong? I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about your eyes.”

  


“It’s fine,” Joxter said in a strained voice. Moomin tried to get Joxter to face him, but the mumrik pulled his hat down over his face and firmly held it there.

  


“Then what’s wrong, Jox? What’s got you all upset?”

  


Joxter straightened up, pushing his hat away from his eyes, and turned to Moomin, a wavering determination in his eyes. "Moomin, I-"

  


“HEY! YOU TWO! STOP!”

  


“Cops!” Joxter yelped. He grabbed Moomin’s paw and began making a run for it. Moomin stumbled before falling into stride with Joxter, running in terror as the park keeper chased them.

  


“Stop in the name of the law!”

  


“You’ll have to kill me first!” Joxter taunted, laughing even as Moomin shrieked in terror of the notion.

  


Moomin squeezed Joxter’s hand tightly, trying to keep up so he wasn’t just been dragged along at reckless abandon. “Jox! What do we do if he catches us?!”

  


“He won’t!” Joxter bounded over a log, and Moomin quickly followed, nearly tripping and landing square on his snout.

  


The two barrelled down over the sand, with the park keeper stumbling but still chasing them. Joxter pushed Moomin down the dock, and a rope ladder was thrown over the side of the Oshun Oxtra.

  


“What in the bloody hell did you two do now?!” Hodgekins demanded.

  


Joxter started pushing Moomin up the ladder. “Destroyed the park, obviously! Start the engine!”

  


Hodgekins rolled his eyes and disappeared from the railing. Moomin grabbed Joxter’s hands, hauling him up over the railing. Joxter quickly lept for the knot in the rope that tied them to the dock. Just as the park keeper reached the dock, the Oshun Oxtra had pulled too far away from the dock, and began dutifully chugging to its next destination. Joxter laughed, collapsing against the railing in a fit of giggles. Moomin began chuckling as well, dissolving into the same fit as Joxter as Hodgekins steered the ship away from the shouting park keeper.

  


\---

  


A particular scent slowly wafted down from the deck, causing Moomin’s nose to twitch. It was an odd smell, although not entirely unpleasant, like some sort of burning herb plant. Below the helm, Joxter was sprawled out on the deck, with his pipe in his hand. Other than the mumrik’s pipe, there was no other possible cause for the smell.

  


Oh dear. Moomin really hoped Joxter wasn’t doing anything that would get Hodgekins mad again.

  


“Nearly there now,” Hodgekins murmured, hunched over his map. “Moomin, do you see anything that looks like a port along the beach?”

  


Moomin squinted, looking through the ocean haze. Every three blinks or so, a beam of light from the nearby lighthouse would make a large sweep and illuminate a swatch of the land and water before them. As the light passed over, a ship dock was exposed, just off to their right. But just as quickly as the light exposed it, it disappeared back into the inky ocean haze. If Moomin squinted, he could faintly see the lanterns outlining the dock.

  


“Just to the right, I think. Looks like a ship dock, not a pedestrian one.”

  


Hodgekins stepped over, flipping a switch and setting the engines to a lower power setting. “Guide us over, I’ll ready our anchor and tie us to it.”

  


Moomin guided the Oshun Oxtra gently to the right. Hodgekins disappeared to the tail of the boat to prepare it for their docking.

  


The lighthouse’s beam swept over them again, piercing the ocean’s haze. Below the bridge, Joxter was still sprawled out along the deck. His pipe, still emitting a soft glow, was no longer in his hand or mouth, but next to him. The light reflected off his slightly greasy hair, and illuminated the skin of his face. Moomin almost thought he was asleep, until Joxter’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and looked up to the bridge, towards him.

  


In a flash, that moment was over. The lighthouse’s beam had swept over them and left them in the dark haze. Joxter disappeared into the darkness, but Moomin could still feel Joxter’s gaze on him.

  


“Alright, cut the engines!” Hodgekins hollered from below.

  


Moomin snapped his eyes away from where Joxter laid on the deck. He flipped the same switch as Hodgekins had before to its final setting, and the ship’s engine shuddered and groaned to a stop. It was followed by a heavy splash as Hodgekins set down the anchor, and Moomin stepped down the bridge to tie the ship to the dock. As he grabbed the rope and secured themselves to the post, Hodgekins said something Moomin didn’t quite catch, something about retiring for the night. The piercing, predatory gaze of Joxter still rested on the back of his head.

  


A third knot was tied in the rope, just to be cautious, before Moomin stepped away from the railing and dusted his hands. Then, as if beckoned by Joxter’s unrelenting gaze, Moomin padded over to the head of the ship, where the mumrik still laid, sprawled out on the deck.

  


Joxter’s parted lips curled into a soft grin as Moomin sat down next to him, pupils blown far more wide than they were the night they vandalized the park. Joxter turned his gaze to the stars above them, lazily reaching for his pipe and taking another drag.

  


The lighthouse’s beam swept over them once again. With a deep sigh, Joxter exhaled the smoke from his pipe, and more of the sickly sweet smell that Moomin had caught earlier filled the air around them.

  


“That doesn’t smell like your normal tobacco. It’s much.. Headier?”

  


The chuckle that drifted from Joxter sounded slightly warped, more airy than his usual tone. “That’s because it isn’t, Moomee.”

  


“What is it, then?”

  


Joxter frowned, opening one eye to peer into the bowl of his pipe. His brow furrowed in concentration before he looked back up to Moomin. “To be frank, I’ve forgotten what it’s called. But I get high from it all the time, so I know it’s not dangerous.” Joxter set his pipe back down again, slowly sitting up. His shoulders sagged, just the slightest, and his head hung a bit to the side, as if it was heavy.

  


“Are you alright?” Moomin asked cautiously.

  


“Oh, Moomee, I feel absolutely fantastic.” There was a weird croon in Joxter’s voice, almost like a purr, and he lifted his arms up, stretching. There was a quick popping noise from his joints, and then his arms dropped back to his sides again. “All the cricks and aches from forebodings, they’re all gone now.”

  


Moomin picked up Joxter’s pipe and peered into the bowl. Whatever smoldering green plant was in that bowl, then, must be very good. None of the medicines they had onboard their boat had worked for the aches caused by Joxter’s forebodings. Hesitantly, Moomin lifted the pipe to his mouth to take a drag.

  


Joxter quickly surged forward, nearly falling into Moomin’s lap as he snatched the pipe away. “No.”

  


“Why? What’s wrong?” Moomin helped Joxter sit back up. “You said it wasn’t dangerous.”

  


“You’ve never smoked before. Like, at all. And I put a lot in the pipe. You could get a bad high, you’d never know since you’ve never smoked before. It might be too much for you.” Joxter paused, tilting his head slightly. “But if you really want to try it, there’s another way to enjoy it.”

  


“I’d like to try, if you don’t mind. I’m awfully curious about it, if it works for your aches.”

  


Joxter nodded slowly. He took a drag from his pipe, but rather than breathing it out like before, he shuffled closer to Moomin, and leaned in close-

  


Moomin quickly jerked away, voice raising multiple pitches. “What are you doing?!”

  


Joxter stared at him with a blank, confused expression. Smoke trickled out from his nose and the corners of his mouth.

  


“Uh,” Joxter slowly drawled, as if the question finally registered in his brain. “Shotgunning?”

  


“You were trying to kiss me!?”

  


“No, I was shotgunning. Here, let’s try that again.” Joxter took another drag, and this time, Moomin didn’t jerk away. Joxter pressed his mouth to Moomin’s, and blew smoke into the troll’s mouth.

  


Moomin pulled away once again, coughing and eyes watering.

  


“Dude, no,” Joxter complained, but amusement was evident in his face. “Don’t swallow it, just hold it in your mouth. One last try?”

  


“Yeah, sorry,” Moomin croaked, rubbing at his watering eyes.

  


Joxter leaned forward again, this time when the smoke was blown into his mouth, Moomin squeezed his eyes shut and made an effort not to swallow the smoke.

  


“Good,” Joxter murmured as he pulled away slightly. “Now hold it.”

  


The smoke tickled the roof of Moomin’s mouth, almost like an itch he couldn’t reach. A soft buzzing filled the space between his ears, and settled into his fingers and tail.

  


“Now release.”

  


Moomin slowly opened his eyes, breathing out the smoke. Joxter grinned, setting his pipe aside.

  


“There we go. How do you feel?”

  


“Fuzzy, and tingly.” Moomin looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “But… pleasantly so.”

  


“Want another hit?”

  


Moomin nodded, so Joxter leaned forward again. This time, however, he didn’t pull away fully, even when Moomin blew out the smoke again. Instead, he remained hovering inside Moomin’s personal space. It didn’t really bother Moomin, not that it bothered him in the first place, but it caused him to give Joxter a curious look.

  


“You feel…” Joxter said slowly. “Soft. Like really soft, like that pink cloud thing.”

  


“Oh,” Moomin giggled, then made a weird face, moving his tongue around in his mouth. “Oh, my mouth feels like cotton.”

  


Joxter burst out laughing at that, and Moomin began to laugh as well. Joxter collapsed against Moomin’s shoulder, and in a clear second of sobriety, Moomin started to move away, remembering that he didn’t like to be touched-

  


But Joxter clung to his arm tightly, and rested his head against Moomin’s shoulder, still chuckling and not looking one bit bothered, so Moomin relaxed once again.

  


“I thought… I thought you didn’t like being touched?”

  


Joxter shifted, lifting his head to look Moomin in the eyes. For a good minute he said nothing, before slowly lifting a paw and placing it against Moomin’s face. The skin and fur underneath Joxter’s hand suddenly felt extremely warm, and the buzzy feeling he felt underneath his skin seemed to grow so much stronger in intensity.

  


“Oh,” Moomin gasped. “Oh, is that what it feels like for you too? It’s so buzzy and pleasant.”

  


Joxter didn’t say anything this time, but nodded, Joxter slowly began to run his hand along Moomin’s arm, gently stroking his fur. Moomin reached forward, lightly touching Joxter’s shoulder.

  


“Oh, wow, your jacket feels more soft than usual too.”

  


“Yeah, fabric and fur, an’ stuff, always feel different when I’m high.” Joxter’s claws slipped out from his fingertips, and his hand lightly began to knead Moomin’s shoulder. Moomin squirmed a bit, giggling.

  


“Hey, that tickles, Jox!”

  


“You’re comfy.” Joxter dropped his head, resting his chin on Moomin’s shoulder again, practically vibrating with the intensity of his purring. Moomin sighed happily, still fiddling with the edge of Joxter’s jacket in his paws, enjoying the texture of the cotton jacket. The two settled into a comfortable silence with each other, underneath the stars and beam of the lighthouse. 

  


It felt simultaneously like forever had passed, yet no time at all, until Joxter spoke once again. “I’m glad you decided to come on this trip with Hodgekins.”

  


“Well, I’m glad you snuck aboard. It’s been quite fun with all the antics you’ve been pulling, destroying parks, and pranks, and the fairies and what not.”

  


“Moomin, I think I shall like to kiss you.”

  


“Okay,” Moomin said, without second thought, then immediately froze. “Wait. What did you say?”

  


Joxter opened his eyes, tilting his head up to look at Moomin. His pupils were still blown from smoking.

  


“I said, I think I shall like to kiss you.”

  


“Oh, right.”

  


Moomin’s head was still foggy, and buzzing, from the smoke. He tried to hold tight onto that though, and not let it drift away like the other thoughts before it. “Right… right now?”

  


“If you’d let me.”

  


“I think… I think I’d be okay with that.”

  


Joxter sat up fully, and Moomin scooted so that they were facing each other. They stared at one another, both unmoving as the beam of light from the lighthouse swept over them again, on its ever circling path, illuminating the both of them. In the brief second that it was over them, Joxter’s eyes were illuminated, and they looked as clear as ever, as if he had never smoked any of that plant in the first place.

  


Joxter leaned in close to Moomin, pausing barely an inch away from his face. Moomin could feel his breath on his mouth. He could hear the crickets chirping quietly on the shore, and the lapping of the waves against the ship, and the soft rustling of the folded sail and Joxter’s jacket, as a breeze floated past them, caressing their hands and faces as if encouraging both of them forward.

  


“Well?” Moomin asked, “You’re acting as if there’s some rule stopping you.”

  


Joxter chuckled, reaching forward and placing a hand on Moomin’s cheek.

  


“Oh, my dear Moomin, there isn’t a single rule I won’t break.”

  


Joxter closed the rest of the distance, and softly placed his lips upon Moomin’s.

  


Moomin’s entire awareness shrunk down to just that sensation, the feeling of Joxter’s lips softly pressing and moving against his own. He thought he would never need anything else again, just the gentle, honey sweet touches from the boy in front of him.

  


Slowly, Joxter pulled away, eyes slowly fluttering open. The look of pure tenderness on his face made Moomin flush terribly, and he was certain it could be seen through his white fur.

  


“Was that to your standards, Moomee?” Joxter teased him, in good nature.

  


“I’m not sure. You’ll have to kiss me again, I think.” Moomin teased back.

  


Joxter chuckled under his breath, and leaned forward again.

  


\---

  


Moomin wasn’t sure what to do, with Joxter. He hadn’t said anything about last night, and neither had Moomin. But Joxter wasn’t avoiding him either. When he had run into Moomin in the kitchen, the two had pleasantly talked until Joxter had been called over by Muddler to help with something.

  


Now it was the afternoon, and they still had not talked about last night.

  


Joxter was leaning against the right side railing, and Hodgekins was teaching Muddler how to steer the ship up on the bridge. Now seemed like the perfect time, Moomin decided. He had to talk about this with Joxter.

  


Moomin approached the Joxter, leaning against the railing next to him. He was abit closer than the mumrik normally allowed, but Joxter made no motion to move, still looking off into the ocean’s horizon. He didn’t say anything either, but did tilt his head just the slightest, to indicate he was listening if Moomin decided to speak.

  


“Jox?”

  


Joxter gave a hum of acknowledgement, so Moomin continued.

  


“About last night.”

  


Joxter didn’t outwardly move, but Moomin could feel him stiffen, and all the pleasantry that had been in the air had completely drained away.

  


“I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” Joxter asked.

  


“Oh, no! No, of course not.” Moomin paused, looking to Joxter. “I didn’t make you uncomfortable either?”

  


“No.”

  


“That’s good then.”

  


The two lapsed into silence again. Moomin almost wished Joxter wasn’t so hard to read. The only thing that ever gave away a hint of his emotions was his tail, always ever moving. The only time Moomin could ever recall seeing it still was when Joxter was asleep.

  


Joxter had said he hadn’t been uncomfortable. Neither had Moomin, and he trusted that Joxter wouldn’t lie to him to save face- not when he had always been so blunt before. So if they were both comfortable, with the smoking, and the kissing, and oh dear, Moomin could feel his fur poofing up as he remembered Joxter had taken off his scarf and jacket, two articles that Moomin never saw Joxter without, and how, in that context, with the closeness and intimacy of that night, it had seemed almost indecent-

  


Joxter grabbed Moomin’s paw, ripping him from his thoughts. Joxter was practically half over the railing, eagerly pointing with his other hand. “Moomin, look! Dolphins!”

  


Joxter had not let go of his paw. Moomin smiled and watched the dolphins, squeezing Joxter’s paw tightly once.

  


Joxter squeezed back.

  


\---

  


It was one of those summer days that Moomin loved the most- where the sun shone warm on them, and the wispy clouds gently drifted past, and the wind was a gentle whisper, caressing their cheeks like a lover as it fluttered past, not even enough to bend the stems of flowers on the hills. The meadow they had discovered was calm, a rainbow of flowers gently swaying around them with the tall sweetgrass, the bumblebees humming as they danced from one destination to the next. Off in the distance, the faint birdsongs drifted over the treetops, sweet and lovely, but faint in the distance. The trees not too far away had heavy, bending branches, layden with fruit, sweet, crisp apples a perfect shade of red, and fuzzy, tender peaches, bursting with sticky juice the moment you bit into one. And near the trees, was a trickling, crystal clear brook, with water that somehow tasted rich, and pure, that surely must have been coming from a mountain’s snow melt.

  


Moomin sat in the shade of an apple tree, slicing off the peels of apples in the calmness. Next to him, against a tree root, Joxter was napping, body fully relaxed and stretched out, and his hat, rather than covering his face, was set next to him, almost hidden amongst the tall grass. 

  


Moomin set the apple peel aside, using the pocket knife in his hand to carefully cut the apple into slices, and slipped one into his mouth. The slice was just as crisp and sweet as the apple had looked, alluringly hanging from the branches above them. Perhaps, before they left, he’d collect a few to make a cinnamon apple cake, or a batch of hot, buttery apple beer. The peaches were ripe for the picking too, and before he had settled down for his nap, Joxter had said they were just as juicy and sticky as they looked above their heads as well. Perhaps, he would make a batch of apple beer, to go with a peach cobbler. Or, he could make the cinnamon apple cake, with peach lemonade to go with it.

  


Ah, well, there was plenty of time to decide.

  


Moomin pressed an apple slice to Joxter’s mouth. Without opening his eyes, Joxter opened his mouth and ate the slice, his fangs making satisfying, crisp snap as they split the apple slice in half.

  


“What do you think, Jox, a cinnamon apple cake with peach lemonade? Or a peach cobbler and apple beer.”

  


Joxter hummed thoughtfully, the tip of his tail lazily twitching in the shade. “I’m not sure. Both sound wonderful.”

  


Moomin nodded, wiping the knife clean against the grass and setting it aside with the peel. “Or brown sugar crumble tarts.” One of Moomin’s favorites, the kind that crumbled and melted apart in his mouth, with a maple and apple sauce that filled the centers.

  


“Whatever you make, I’ll look forward to it.”

  


Joxter rested back against the gnarled tree root again, arms crossed behind his head. This time, he truly did fall asleep, his breathing deepening and his ever twitching tail calming against the fresh earth.

  


Moomin rested back against the tree trunk, simply watching Joxter sleep. It was very different, seeing Joxter asleep than seeing him awake. Awake, Joxter seemed to always be coiled tightly, always ready to pounce, to play a trick, with a playful twinkle in his eye and two deft hands that had perfected all the sleights of hand Moomin knew of and more. But asleep was the only time that Moomin saw Joxter fully relaxed, limbs loose and untensed, and a sense of peacefulness, a deeper, older peacefulness than when he was awake, draped over him like the thick velvet duvet the two of them shared on the colder nights, when they slept under the stars, Joxter whispering the names of faraway stars and constellations in Moomin’s ear until the wee hours of the morning, when they passed out from sheer exhaustion.

  


Slowly, in case Joxter did still happen to be awake, Moomin reached out and gently brushed Joxter’s bangs out of his face. The mumrik didn’t move, save for the gentle twitch of his ears, so Moomin carefully ran his paw through Joxter’s hair, delicately brushing through the tangles and snarls with his dull claws. When he decided Joxter’s hair was sufficiently detangled, he plucked a few of the small, white daisies that grew in the sweetgrass around them. Taking the delicate stems between the tips of his claws, he twisted the feverfew daisies into Joxter’s hair. The small white petals, with their large golden yellow centers stood out in Joxter’s black hair, like bright fireworks in a midnight sky. Somehow, the flowers almost seemed to make Joxter look even deeper asleep, and like there was nothing in the world that could possibly wake him again, and he’d continue to sleep till the end of time, like a forest nymph.

  


In some ways, Moomin thought in amusement, perhaps Joxter was a sort of forest nymph. Even blindfolded and disoriented, Joxter never failed to find north, and after years of travelling the world and forests, he seemed to know intrinsically which plants were edible, which ones were not, and which ones were dangerous to touch. He knew how to find the freshest water, and multiple different ways to start a fire, and how to tread so feather light, not even the leaves beneath his feet made a sound. Fast on all fours, Moomin mused, yes, but silent on two feet.

  


He ran one finger across one of Joxter’s furred ears. He chuckled when the ear in question twitched and flapped, and gently took the edge of it between his thumb and forefinger, admiring the fuzzy, velvety fur that grew on it.

  


Now that Moomin thought about it, the light fur that grew on Joxter’s nose appeared to be the same. Just to make certain, to satisfy his curiosity, Moomin brushed a finger along it, and was delighted to find it was the same, velvety soft fur. He laughed quietly to himself, pulling his hand away as Joxter’s nose scrunched up at the touch. He turned his observations to Joxter’s paws, gently moving one arm out from underneath Joxter’s head, and studied his furred paws.

  


The inky black fur on Joxter’s paw was thicker, and longer here than on his ears and nose, and oddly silky soft. At the tips of his fingers were small, pink pads, and tiny slits at the very tip of his fingers, where Moomin knew claws sharp enough to slice wood rested in secret. Careful not to squeeze his pads, and to make the claws slide out, Moomin had the sudden urge to kiss the pink pads on Joxter’s fingers one by one, and impulsively did so. 

  


As Moomin set Joxter’s hand back down on the sleeping mumrik’s chest and looked back up, he found Joxter very much awake, and staring at him with wide eyes and a cherry red blush. Moomin froze, unsure what to say or do, unsure if what he had done was veering on the side of too much affection, too much touch, and had made Joxter uncomfortable- but Joxter smiled softly at him, and offered him his other paw. Moomin smiled back, gently taking Joxter’s other paw in both of his, and pressing the same, soft kisses to his pads. A purr came from Joxter’s throat, loud, and genuinely happy, and so strong that Moomin felt surprised that the mumrik wasn’t vibrating from its intensity.

  


Joxter’s voice, however, did vibrate in an odd tone from his purr. “Never been woken up like that before. You sure know how to make a mumrik feel appreciated.”

  


Moomin laughed, gently squeezing Joxter’s paw. “I don’t know what possessed me to do it in the first place.”

  


“Did you put daisies in my hair?” Joxter brought a hand up to his face, pushing his hair out of his vision.

  


“I thought they looked lovely in your hair.”

  


This time, Joxter laughed, sitting up. Moomin, for a split second, thought that Joxter’s purr had gotten impossibly louder, but the buzzing registered in his head as the humming of cicadas, starting to come out for the evening as the sun began to set behind the trees.

  


“It’s getting late.” Joxter stood up, then pulled Moomin up to his feet. “We should probably start heading back then, Hodgekins has probably started dinner without us.”

  


“Tomorrow morning, we should come collect a basket of apples and peaches, to cook with. I can make something sweet for us.” Moomin bent down, picking up his apple peels and pocket knife. Joxter pulled his hat up, placing it back on his head.

  


Moomin paused, holding the apple peels in his hands. “You know, I’ve heard of a superstition that if you throw your apple peels over your shoulder, it’ll spell the initials of your soulmate.”

  


“Is that so?” Joxter asked in amusement. He took the apple peels from Moomin’s hand, and without looking, tossed them over his shoulder. Moomin laughed, peering behind him. “Well then, let’s see what the apples have to say tomorrow, when we come back for the fruit.”

  


Moomin laughed, as the two began to leave the meadow, to return to the Oshun Oxtra.

  


Behind them, the apple peels spelled out an “m”, but they’d be eaten by the cicadas overnight, and forgotten in the minds of both boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may have noticed, but this work has been updated to be part of a series. I currently have the second installment finished and ready to go, and I'm working on the third one. The series as a whole will be updating on Wednesdays, like this fic has. I'm excited to share these works with you.
> 
> M is for Mymble too.


	5. Chapter 5

“Something’s bothering you,” Joxter said decidedly, sitting up in the hammock. Moomin said nothing in response as the hammock swayed from the movement, and didn’t move his gaze away from the deck above them. Joxter frowned, lightly touching Moomin’s shoulder.

  


“Moomin, cmon now, what’s eating at you?”

  


“It’s not important, lie back down.”

  


“You’ve been giving me forebodings all day. Please, Moomin, talk with me?”

  


Well, Moomin can’t fight with that. Normally, Joxter isn’t one to press- not liking being pressed himself- but when he suspects that it’s causing his forebodings, he’ll press for a good long time before relenting. Moomin sighed, sitting up next to Joxter and causing the hammock to swing once again.

  


“I’ve just got a lot on mind, is all. I’ve recently realized something, I think.”

  


“And what is that?”

  


Moomin hesitated, mouth open to say something, but wasn’t sure of what to say. He closed his mouth again and pondered for a few moments, before trying to speak once again.

  


“I think I’ve decided that being in love sucks.”

  


Joxter’s eyebrows rose. “Oh? What makes you think that?”

  


Moomin shrugged helplessly, decidedly trying not to make eye contact. “It just. Does. My chest constantly hurts, and sometimes it’s hard to find words to speak, and sometimes when- when they look at me, it feels like I’m going to burn up and die.”

  


“That doesn’t sound fun,” Joxter agreed. “I don’t think I’d enjoy feeling like that all the time either.”

  


“Have you.. Ever been in love, Jox?” Moomin asked hesitantly. Slowly, he looked up, to Joxter.

  


Now Joxter was the one avoiding eye contact, looking to the flickering candle lantern that illuminated the lower deck for them. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, the first hints of realization flickering behind his eyes.

  


“I can't say I have.”

  


“It’s awful,” Moomin reaffirmed. 

  


A heavy, pressuring silence fell over both of them. Joxter continued to avoid Moomin’s gaze, staring intently at the lantern. Moomin reached out, and took one of Joxter’s paws in his own, squeezing it gently.

  


“Jox..”

  


“Please,” Joxter whispered in a begging tone. “Don’t. Don’t say it, Moomin.”

  


Moomin squeezed Joxter’s paw tighter in both of his own, like it was the only thing that would keep Joxter from disappearing into thin air like a spooked deer.

  


“Jox, I love you.”

  


There’s a second, a single split second, where Moomin could have, and would have sworn up and down, and upon every star, and upon every foreigner’s god, that Joxter squeezed Moomin’s paw back. But in the next, Joxter yanked his paw away from him, quickly climbing out of the hammock. Moomin tumbled over slightly, nearly falling out of the hammock from its quick movement.

  


“Joxter? Jox, what’s wrong?”

  


"If you don't know what's wrong, that's the problem."

  


"That's hardly fair to me, Jox! You can't expect me to read your mind!"

  


Joxter refused to meet Moomin's eyes, his gaze darting around the room, looking to anything but him. "I just- we can't do that, Moomin, we can't."

  


"The hell you mean we can't?" Moomin demanded. "You weren't saying that when you kissed me!"

  


Joxter cringed, finally looking to him. "Moomin-"

  


"It's not a terrible thing to be loved, Joxter! I'm not like I'm saying you've got to stay forever!"

"But you would," Joxter whispered, "Wouldn't you? I've heard you talk with Hodgekins before, I know what you want. You want to find a nice place and settle down, be stationary, forever-"

  


"Oh, come on, this? Really? I'm not asking that of you right now, am I? Besides, it's not like I wouldn't let you travel sometimes!"

  


"Only sometimes? And how often would 'sometimes' be?"

  


Moomin paused, staring at Joxter. Joxter set his jaw, mouth pressed into a firm line, taking the silence as Moomin's answer, and quickly turned around, beginning to walk away.

  


"Joxter!"

  


Moomin slid out of the hammock as Joxter dashed up the stairs back to the top deck, not stopping even when there’s a faint yelp above. Moomin barrelled up the stairs after him.

  


“Joxter!”

  


Joxter broke into a full sprint, leaping over the side railings of the Oshun Oxtra, and darted across the dock.

  


“Joxter!” Moomin pushed past Muddler, who had pressed himself against the stairwell, and to the side railings. He watched helplessly, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes as Joxter disappeared into the forest line.

  


Moomin knew better than to look for a mumrik who didn’t want to be found- he’d only find himself lost, without ever seeing a single hair of him.

  


“Oh, Muddler-” Moomin wailed as Muddler approached him with confusion. “Muddler, I’ve gone and ruined everything.”

  


\---

  


Joxter did not return that night, or the next, preventing the crew from leaving the dock they had stopped at. Moomin was so set with worry that he could barely eat. It wasn’t that he was worried for Joxter’s health- Moomin knew very well that the mumrik would have no problem locating food, or a warm dry place to rest. But he also knew very well that, at heart, Joxter was a wanderer before anything else. There was no real obligation for him to stay with the crew, and finish their adventure. If Joxter didn’t want to return, he simply wouldn’t, and that would be the end of that. After five days, Hodgekins had said, they'd have to move on, with or without him.

  


But on the third night after Joxter had disappeared, when Muddler and Hodgekins had long ago retired for the night, leaving Moomin alone above deck to watch the stars, Joxter returned, silent save for the creaking boards beneath his boots.

  


“Joxter?” Moomin whispered.

  


Joxter walked over, and sat down next to Moomin, looking up to the stars. Moomin fell silent with him, and time became lost to both of them as they sat, hands almost touching but not quite, gazing as the stars as they did their nightly march across the sky above their heads. They could have been sitting there for hours easily, or for no time at all, before Joxter spoke.

  


“Moomin.” 

  


“Yes?”

  


Joxter pulled his eyes away from the sky, and looked to Moomin. His mouth was pressed into a thin, pained line.

  


“Moomin, I can’t love you the way you want me to. I can't live the way you want to.”

  


It hurt to hear that so bluntly, but Moomin knew that it was the truth. Unlike Moomins and, well, most other creatures, Joxter wouldn’t be able to settle down and live the rest of his life in one spot. There would be always the trail on a distant horizon that would call to him, that would appeal to his itching wanderer’s foot, and Joxter would follow it to his next destination. 

  


Moomin nodded in agreement.

  


“I’m sorry. You can- you can ignore I ever said that, if you’d like. I won’t ever bring it up again.”

  


“But that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.”

  


Moomin paused, looking back to Joxter, as the mumrik continued.

  


“Because I do care for you, just… I can’t do what you might expect me to. I can’t remain in only one or two spaces for the rest of my life. I’m not meant for that.” Joxter took Moomin’s paw, cradling it in both of his hands. “And I can’t expect you to simply travel with me for the rest of your life- you’re not meant for that either.”

  


Moomin’s gaze focused on Joxter’s hands holding his own, unable to look away. “Then, what do we do?”

  


“We simply let whatever happens happen.”

  


“As boyfriends, or..”

  


Joxter grimaced, shaking his head. “No, I would prefer not to pick labels. It causes expectations, and that’ll just lead to more arguments. Let’s just… be. We go on as if nothing’s changed, and if we kiss sometimes, so be it, and if we don’t, so be that.”

  


“That sounds wonderful then, Jox, Let’s just be.” Moomin smiled softly, and Joxter smiled back at him, squeezing Moomin’s paw tightly.

  


\---

  


“A bit more to the left!” Joxter shouted.

  


Moomin tilted the wheel, guiding the ship to Joxter’s instructions. Joxter leaned over the railing, tossing the rope to secure them to the dock. Moomin cut the engines as Joxter tied the knot, running down the steps to throw down the anchor.

  


“Hullo, folks!” A person came walking down the dock, waving an envelope to them. “Saw you coming to dock! I’ve got an invitation for you lot.”

  


Hodgekins climbed down to the dock, to speak with the messenger. Moomin leaned against the railing, next to Joxter, arms touching. Muddler came racing up from below the deck.

  


“What did he say?” Muddler asked, out of breath.

  


“Something about an invitation,” Joxter said. “I wonder what for?”

  


“Do you think we’ll go? What do your forebodings say?” Moomin asked.

  


Joxter shrugged slightly, chuckling. “That’s not really how it works, guys. But I’m not picking up on anything bad. Yet.” Joxter gripped the railing and launched himself over, landing smoothly on the dock as the messenger left. “Hodgekins! What’d they say?”

  


Hodgekins turned back to the group, reading the letter as Muddler and Moomin climbed down the ladder. “Invitation to the King’s birthday party. Tonight, with a scavenger hunt for prizes, and fireworks.”

  


“All in favor of going!” Moomin thrust his hand into the air, eagerly bouncing on his feet. Muddler’s hand shot into the air, and Joxter shrugged, lazily raising a hand as well. “Joxter?” Hodgekins questioned.

  


Joxter shook his head, popping one of his knuckles. “Nope, nothing. Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem to be bad.”

  


Hodgekins smiled, folding up the invitation. “Well! We were directly invited by the king. We wouldn’t want to be rude, and decline.”

  


\---

  


“Hey, Hodgekins.” Moomin quickly grabbed his arm, and pulled him aside. “Have you seen Joxter? I haven’t seen him in a good while, and he’s terrible with crowds. I’m a bit worried.”

  


Hodgekins scanned the crowd, since he was much taller than Moomin and could see above most of the people. He quickly pointed to the left. “Refreshment table, over there. Looks a bit worse for wear, you probably should check up on him.”

  


“Thanks.” Moomin left Hodgekin’s side, making his way through the crowd. He pushed past quite a few people, muttering “excuse me”s and “pardon me”s under his breath until he made it to the refreshment area. Joxter was leaning against one of the pillars, and holding a drink in both hands as his eyes darted over the crowd.

  


Moomin approached him, making sure to remain in Joxter’s field of view, and gently placed a paw on his shoulder. “Jox, hey. Are you doing okay? Do you need to go some place a bit quieter?”

  


“That sounds lovely right now.” Joxter let Moomin take his drink and set it aside, latching onto his arm as his eyes darted nervously over the crowd. “Not sure what I expected, with a royal party and what not. It’s just. A lot of people.”

  


“It’s fine, no one’s upset with you, Jox. I’m proud of you for lasting this long.” Moomin squeezed Joxter’s hand encouragingly, then gripped it tightly as he began to navigate through the crowd. Joxter’s fingers flexed in Moomin’s grip, claws extending out and pricking into Moomin’s fur.

  


Suddenly, Joxter stopped walking, as if rooted into place. Moomin tugged on his arm slightly, but when Joxter still refused to move, he stopped and looked back. A young child was clinging to Joxter’s jacket, looking quite upset.

  


“Please help me, mister!”

  


“What’s wrong?” Moomin crouched down in front of the girl.

  


The girl let go of Joxter’s jacket, turning to Moomin. “My little sister climbed a tree, up real high, and she can’t get back down! I can’t tell mama, because she’s gonna have a baby and can’t climb, and Minnie wasn’t supposed to climb the trees either, so she’d get in trouble! Won’t you please help?”

  


Joxter’s tail twitched in interest when the young girl said ‘wasn’t supposed to’, most likely taking it as a rule against climbing the trees. He crouched down as well, gently patting the girl’s head. “What’s your name?”

  


“I’m Mymble Junior, but my mama and my sisters call me Mumble!” Mumble grabbed onto Joxter’s sleeve, tugging once again. “Won’t you please help? You’ve got claws like a kitty cat, so you must be a good climber! Aren’t you?”

  


Joxter stood up, and Mumble began dragging Joxter along by his sleeve. Moomin latched onto Joxter’s other hand before they could get separated by the crowd, and Mumble led them to the largest oak tree in the courtyard. Way up above their heads, in the foliage, a small child with the same bright red hair as Mumble could be seen clinging to a branch.

  


“This should only take a moment. Don’t go anywhere.” Joxter kicked off his boots, extending all his claws. He crouched down slightly, tail lashing about behind him, and leapt up the side of the tree, disappearing into the foliage. Moomin sat down against the tree to wait, but Mumble paced around the tree trunk, peering up into the leaves.

  


“Where’d he go? He disappeared!”

  


Moomin shrugged. “Well, he’s a mumrik, they’re very good at disappearing in nature. Plus, his jacket is green, and the leaves are green as well.”

  


Mumble gasped excitedly, jumping up and down in front of Moomin with a gleeful look. “Oh, oh, oh! He’s a mumrik? Mama told me about mumriks! She said they travel the entire world, and have lots and lots of stories! She’s never met a mumrik but she says one of her friends did, and that’s what they told her! Do you think the mister will tell me some of his stories? I want to travel the world like a mumrik too!”

  


Moomin chuckled weakly, tapping his cheek in thought. “I suppose there’s… some stories, he could tell you. Joxter rather does enjoy telling stories to other people.”

  


Joxter came shimmying back down the tree trunk, with a small child’s dress collar between his teeth. The child seemed a bit frightened, and was also tightly clinging to Joxter’s scarf as he climbed down.

  


“Mumble, Minnie! There you are!” A tall, redheaded women rushed over, with a third child in her arms and a fourth attached to her skirt. Judging from the bright red hair all of them had, with the woman also looking quite long into a pregnancy, Moomin assumed that this was their mother.

  


“I tried to stop her, I really did, mama!” Mumble cried. “But the nice mumrik got her down!”

  


“Not a scratch, but a bit frightened, it seems,” Joxter announced, setting the girl down. He froze when he looked up and saw the children’s mother. “Um. Hello.”

  


The woman fussed over her child for a few moments, double checking for scrapes before sending her on her way. “Thank you, mister…?”

  


Joxter flushed slightly, causing Moomin to laugh under his breath, and grabbed the brim of his hat to slightly cover his eyes. “Joxter, ma’am. And you are?”

  


“Mymble.” The woman smiled, clasping her hands together as the rest of her children ran off again, shepherded by Mumble. “Well, thank you very much, mister Joxter. Perhaps I won’t be expecting you to drop by for tea? You mumriks don’t stay put for very long, do you?”

  


Joxter laughed slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Mumriks tend to do the opposite of what they’re told, Miss Mymble. I might have to stop by now, just on principle, of course.” 

  


“That would be lovely, Miss. Thank you,” Moomin agreed.

  


Mymble laughed, giving a slight curtsey to both of them. “Then, I shall be expecting you after all. But definitely not after noon.” She winked at Joxter, as if they were sharing an inside joke, before turning to follow her children, disappearing into the crowd.

  


Moomin smiled at Joxter. “She was rather nice, wasn’t she?”

  


Joxter had a large grin on his face, and a bright red blush high over his cheeks to match. He pulled his hat low over his face after Mymble disappeared from sight, chuckling softly.

  


“What a remarkable Mymble.”

  


\---

  


“Moomin? I thought you and Joxter left hours ago.” Muddler sat down next to Moomin at the table, where Moomin was helping himself to a few snacks left from the grand banquet the party had offered.

  


Moomin shrugged slightly. “We were gonna, but then something happened with a couple of kids. Joxter spent a couple of minutes in a tree, and was fine afterwards. Oh! We met this lovely Mymble, I think they’re trading stories right now with each other. One of her kids kept pestering him about telling her stories.”

  


“That’s great and all, but Moomin, the fireworks are about to start.”

  


“Yes, I know, that’s why I sat here. There’s not too many tall people, nor trees, so I’ll have a lovely view of the fireworks from here, don’t you think?”

  


Muddler reached across the table, shaking Moomin’s shoulder. “Moomin, think! If you didn’t leave here with Joxter, that means he’s still here, right?”

  


Moomin blinked slightly. “Well- yes, I just say that.”

  


Muddler grimaced slightly. “And doesn’t your boyfriend hate loud noises? Such as, I don’t know, fireworks, Moomin?”

  


Moomin froze, mouth open to say something, but nothing came out. A loud, whistling noise came from above, rising into the air.

  


“He’s going to freak out, Moomin!”

  


“He’s not my boyfriend!” Moomin stood up as the first firework burst into life, colorings igniting and painting the night sky. “I’ve got to go find Joxter, we’ll go back to the ship! See you later tonight, or tomorrow morning!”

  


Moomin dashed away from the tables, and into the crowds. He recalled Mymble and Joxter mentioning something about the picnic hills nearby, and tried to head that way, but no one wished to move, not wanting to miss the admittedly spectacular fireworks show. It seemed that the crowd grew thicker, as well, the closer that Moomin tried to get to the hill. 

  


A hand grabbed onto Moomin’s shoulder tightly, and Moomin’s shriek was covered by a large booming noise as a particularly large firework went off in the sky. Moomin whipped around, and came face to face with Mymble, who looked quite worried.

  


“Moomin, isn’t it? We must hurry. Your friend is having a problem.”

  


Moomin let Mymble pull him along gratefully, as the crowd seemed much more willing to part for her and her pregnant belly than they had for Moomin. They reached the picnic hill in no time, where Mymble’s children were enamoured with the fireworks, and an odd shaped ball of green cloth was curled up against a tree trunk.

  


“Jox!” Moomin let go of Mymble, racing over to the tree. Joxter’s puffed up tail lashed wildly about him, and the ball didn’t move a single inch. Moomin gently placed a hand on Joxter’s arms, pulling them away slightly, and Joxter looked up at him, looking overcome with panic.

  


“Hey, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Let’s go back to the ship, yeah?” Moomin pulled Joxter up, wincing when two sets of claws latched onto his arm and sunk into his fur slightly. He looked back to Mymble, smiling apologetically. “Sorry about all of this, but thank you for finding me!”

  


“Have him drink some lemon balm tea, when you can. It does wonders. Have a good night, now!” Mymble waved to them.

  


“Goodnight, Miss Mymble!” Moomin began leading Joxter away, heading for the nearest courtyard exit to head towards the dock. Everytime a firework exploded to life above their heads, Joxter would flinch, grip tightening on Moomin’s arm enough to make him think perhaps his blood circulation was cut off. As they left the castle courtyard, and its surrounding city, the sound of the fireworks overhead began to diminish greatly, although it didn’t seem to help Joxter’s anxiety as much. Moomin had to help him climb the ladder back onto the ship, then quickly brought him below deck to rest away from the noise before leaving to make tea over the stove.

  


“Here, Miss Mymble said this might help.” Moomin passed Joxter a cup of tea, lemon balm like Mymble had recommended, and sat down in the hammock with him. “Are you doing any better, Jox?”

  


Joxter gripped the mug in both hands, still a bit shaky, it seemed, but his tail no longer resembled a bottle brush like it had in the courtyard.

  


“A bit,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry. I forgot about the fireworks. I would’ve left.”

  


“I forgot too. I was planning to leave with you before they started. I’m glad Miss Mymble found me.”

  


Joxter nodded, taking a hesitant sip of his tea. He immediately wrenched the mug away from his face, groaning. “Ugh. I hate lemon balm. Surely you don’t expect me to drink this, do you?”

  


“Miss Mymble said it should help, so you need to drink it.” Moomin pushed the mug back into Joxter’s hands. “I don’t like this particular tea either, but I made a second cup anyways. We can suffer through it together.”

  


Joxter groaned, shoulders sagging. “You’re going to be the death of me, Moomin."

  


\---

  


“Do you think it’s too soon to show up for that offer of tea?” Joxter wondered aloud.

  


Moomin looked up from the map of the island and peered curiously at him. “It’s been two days.”

  


“Yes, but do you think that’s too soon?”

  


“You don’t even like tea that much!”

  


Joxter shrugged sheepishly. “Well, yes. But I promised her kids I’d tell them more stories. They were too tired at the end of the party for me to be telling them.”

  


“Yeah, because SOMEONE snuck back into the party after the fireworks and swung on the swings with a pretty girl again!” Muddler teased, tossing a paper napkin airplane and hitting Joxter between the eyes.

  


Moomin looked back to Joxter with large eyes. “You didn’t!”

  


Joxter’s face went bright red, and he quickly pulled the brim of his hat down to hide his face. A large, goofy grin spread from cheek to cheek.

  


“Perhaps I did,” said Joxter. “She was just absolutely remarkable.”

  


“I thought you just went for a midnight walk to calm yourself down!” Moomin sighed and rested on the table. “That, or that you had gone and done something where we’d have to bail you out again! I was worried, you know.”

  


“Hey! The woodie event was not my fault! The hemulen started it.”

  


Hodgekins set down four coffee mugs on the table, passing them out. “You destroyed a park via a bonfire.”

  


Joxter shook a finger at Hodgekins, smirking. “Ah, but that was equal parts Moomin!”

  


“You got bewitched by fairies,” Muddler reminded him.

  


Joxter crossed his arms with a huff. “It's not like I ate any of their food! Or stepped in their fairy circle."

  


“Underage drinking and smoking,” Moomin spoke up.

  


Joxter opened his mouth to defend himself, then closed it. He laughed sheepishly with a shrug. “Alright, fair. I don’t have a defense for that.”

  


“The point is though, Jox, that I was worried. You get into trouble a lot.”

  


“I’m sorry for worrying you, then. I’ll warn you next time.” Joxter leaned over the table and squeezed Moomin’s hands. “You know what? Mymble can wait a couple more days. There’s a really large cave nearby, among the cliffs. Perfect for exploring, one might think!”

  


Moomin laughed, squeezing Joxter’s hand back. “Let’s do it! Adventure awaits!”

  


\---

  


“Muddie’s got a girlfriend.”

  


Moomin dropped his knife. “What?”

  


Joxter continued to boredly sharpen his claws on a rough piece of bark. “He’s got a girlfriend. Saw them out and enjoying themselves today.”

  


“Let me guess- button collector?”

  


“And seashells. And ribbons.” Joxter dropped the bark onto the table. “I refuse to believe that Muddler really is the first one of us to get a girlfriend.”

  


Moomin snorted and burst into laughter. “Oh dear, he really is, isn’t he?”

  


“He’s what?” Hodgekins asked.

  


Joxter and Moomin both froze, looking to Hodgekins.

  


“Well?” Hodgekins prompted.

  


\---

  


“It’s so wonderful to meet you,” said Fuzzy, beaming brightly. Hodgekins continued to glower at her from the corner, although Fuzzy seemed to be entirely unaffected.

  


“Likewise.” Moomin moved the kettle off of the stove, and began pouring coffee for all of them. Don’t mind Hodgekins, he’s just old and bitter.”

  


“I am not.”

  


“He is.” Joxter swiped one of the mugs off of the tray, and immediately wincing when his impatience earned him a burnt tongue.

  


“Serves you right,” Muddler huffed, drinking from his own mug as Joxter fanned his burnt tongue. “Maybe that’ll teach you to watch your sticky paws.”

  


“Now you’re just being too optimistic,” Moomin laughed, sitting down.

  


“Oh dear, your scarf!” Fuzzy exclaimed.

  


Joxter looked at her curiously, the tip of his tongue still sticking out of his mouth.

  


Fuzzy dug through her purse, pulling out a spool of thread and a needle. Instantly, she reached forward and took Joxter’s scarf, immediately setting to work. A small area of stitching had come undone, most likely from Joxter picking at it with his claws.

  


“Excuse me,” Joxter said, looking very miffed.

  


Fuzzy’s hands moved quickly and deftly, fixing the tear in seconds. She snapped the spare thread with her teeth after tying it into a knot. Then, she flicked the scarf back around Joxter’s neck, tying it neatly. “There we are! Good as new.”

  


Hodgekins burst into laughter at Joxter’s offended face, but Muddler and Fuzzy didn’t seem to notice, now chatting about something else. As the couple headed outside, with Hodgekins following them and more comfortably chatting with Fuzzy, Moomin scooted closer to Joxter.

  


“I like it much better crooked.” Moomin untied Joxter’s scarf, and offered it back to him.

  


Joxter huffed, smiling sweetly at him as he wrapped his scarf back around his neck. He leaned forward, nuzzling his nose into Moomin’s cheek. “Thanks, Moomin. You’re the best.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these dumbasses broke up before they even officially started dating, RIP
> 
> I've been waiting to introduce Mymble FOREVER, she's one of my favorite characters, easily. Also have been WAITING to introduce Fuzzy, when I first started writing I k n e w how I wanted to introduce her into the story.


	6. Chapter 6

The rain almost seemed to be coming down harder now than it had in the past couple days. Now that the colony, as they were calling themselves, had split up about a month ago, none of them had seen each other in some time. Moomin knew Hodgekins was borrowing the King’s workshop, and that Muddler was staying with Fuzzy. He wasn’t quite sure where Joxter was, but he figured it was likely he was staying with Mymble, since the two seemed to get along fantastically.

  


Moomin sighed, watching the rain fall outside his window. The time they had spent separate was starting to become incredibly boring. The first couple days, Moomin had been able to work on his journal to his heart’s content, taking notes and documenting their last couple of adventures- when he was older, he wanted to have plenty of notes to write their adventures into a memoir, as all famous adventurers did. But now with nothing else to do, Moomin was left to fiddle with leftover maps or watch the rain fall.

  


Moomin wished that at least Joxter was around. It seemed the mumrik never ran out of ideas on things to do, or trouble to get into. Even a rainy day wouldn’t have been able to stop him, try as it might. He at least hoped, wherever Joxter was, that he was getting up to no good and enjoying himself. He knew that Joxter recently had stopped bothering to climb the walls around the town, after finding out it wasn’t forbidden to do so.

  


Moomin chuckled softly, folding a paper boat from a blank page he had ripped from his journal. Joxter hadn’t stopped pouting for the rest of that day. Hopefully there was a park nearby that Joxter could trash.

  


Perhaps Moomin missed the group a little more than he had thought he would. But when they had split apart, he had also thought they’d be meeting up more often than they were, although the storm wasn’t helping any. Perhaps Moomin could arrange something for them to all come together and hang out.

  


Moomin grinned to himself. Perfect! He could go visit them when the rain ended, and they all could have dinner together, or the like. Perhaps plan an adventure together. Yes, absolutely. As soon as the rain permitted him, he’d go out and visit all of them.

  


\---

  


“Oh, Joxter! There you are!” Moomin ran up the hill to Mymble’s house as he saw the mumrik jump out of the apple tree. “It’s been quite some time now, although I don’t think the storm helped very much.”

  


“Moomee!” Joxter grinned, standing back up from his crouched position. “You been doing alright?”

  


“Papa! You got the kite!” One of Mymble’s children ran up to the two of them, taking the kite out of Joxter’s hands. “Thank you, papa!”

  


Joxter chuckled, ruffling the girl’s hair. “Yes, yes, there you go. Run along now, and let your mother rest!”

  


Moomin stared at the child as she ran off, then turned and looked to Joxter. “Papa??”

  


The mumrik shrugged with a sheepish look. “Don’t know. That started a couple days ago. I’ve been been helping to coral them with Mumble’s help so Mymble can focus on Little My.”

  


“Oh! Mymble had her baby?”

  


“Oh yeah. Little My has a knack for getting into all sorts of trouble I’ve never seen mymble children get into.” Joxter picked up a basket of apples from the base of the tree, and gestured to the house. “Come in, shall you?”

  


Joxter took his basket and headed inside the cottage. Moomin followed him inside and was immediately delivered a swift kick to the knee. He lept back with a loud yelp, shielding his knee from any further assault. Joxter simply sighed, picking up a small girl by the scruff of her neck.

  


“Little My, we are nice to our guests,” Joxter chided. He set her down on the table, and with a wink, passed the child an apple from the basket as he passed by to the kitchen. Moomin tiptoed past the child, eyeing her warily as he slipped into the kitchen.

  


“At least she didn’t bite you.” Joxter patted Moomin’s shoulder before turning to Mymble, setting the apple basket on the counter. “Mymble, I thought I told you to rest. You’ve been on your feet all day.”

  


Mymble chuckled softly, stirring a large pot by the stove. “Would you have, if I had told you the same?”

  


“Well no, but at least take it easy.”

  


“Cooking is taking it easy. Skin the apples for me?”

  


Joxter plopped onto the counter, taking out a pocket knife from his jacket and began to cut the peels off the apples. Mymble hummed softly as she continued to stir the pot, with Joxter tapping his foot in time. The image seemed utterly domestic, and Moomin felt as though he was awfully out of place, intruding on something he wasn’t meant to be a part of. It was an odd feeling for him. Joxter had never once made Moomin feel out of place, or distanced, in any way, not since they had settled into their letting things be. The feeling prickled at his fur, cold and unpleasant.

  


Moomin grabbed a knife from a drawer and leaned against the counter next to Joxter, beginning to peel apples with him.

  


“Jox, I actually had something to ask of you.”

  


“Oh?” Joxter lifted his knife to his mouth, eating the apple skin right off of it. “What would that be?”

  


“Well, it’s been a while since we all hung out together, with no help from the storm, of course. So I thought perhaps we should all hang out again. I wanted to invite you as well, of course.”

  


Joxter raised an eyebrow.

  


Moomin stumbled over his words. “Ah. What I meant to say is, you’re absolutely not invited, we don’t want you to come, and you better not crash the dinner party either. At the Oshun Oxtra.”

  


Joxter laughed, tilting his head to the side. “Is that so? You’d better lock your doors then, Moomee. Wouldn’t want any trespassers sticking their noses in.”

  


“Maybe I will!” Moomin declared defiantly. “And I certainly wouldn’t want any trespassers arriving on time with something for the potluck either.”

  


Joxter laughed again, flicking a piece of apple skin at Moomin’s face. “Okay, okay! If you’re gonna be so persistent, perhaps I’ll show up with something. Perhaps.”

  


Moomin grinned, and gently pressed his nose to Joxter’s.

  


\---

  


“Hey ho, boys!”

  


“Joxter’s here,” Muddler announced, putting the last chair into place. “And he’s brought Miss Mymble.”

  


“What?” Moomin poked his head out of the kitchen.

  


Joxter waved at them with a large grin as he boarded the Oshun Oxtra, and sure enough, Mymble was at his side, carrying a cake pan.

  


Moomin huffed, wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. “Oh. Well, no matter! Hodgekins was too busy to come, he’s too busy with his project. We’ll have enough chairs, as long as she didn’t bring her children.”

  


“Doesn’t appear so.” Muddler gently bumped Moomin’s shoulder. “Have you and Joxter gotten into a rift?”

  


“We’re not dating, Muddler, we’ve been over this. We’re just letting things be. And there was no argument.” Moomin paused after he turned off the stove. “Why would you ask that?”

  


Muddler hesitated, fiddling with his hands. “It’s just. Oh, I don’t know, I could be wrong. I’m not good with these things but…”

  


"But?” Moomin echoed.

  


Muddler peeked out of the kitchen door to where Mymble and Joxter were setting the table together and laughing.

  


“It’s just. Joxter has gotten awfully cozy with Mymble, has he not?”

  


Moomin set his serving spoon down on the counter, taking off his apron and hanging it back up. “I suppose so. But as I said before, we’re just letting things be. He’s allowed to be best friends with Mymble. He’s not limited to just us. Trying to control him will just scare him off more.” Moomin picked up the pot of stew, carrying it to the table.

  


“Smells great as always, Moomee,” Joxter grinned. “Quite the cook as always.”

  


“Oh hush, I’m only good with stews.” Moomin grinned back nonetheless, passing a small cloth bag to him. “Here. It’s vegetarian like always, and I bet you left your bag behind at Mymble’s house.”

  


Joxter huffed, grabbing the bag from Moomin and dropping a small bit of the dried meat chunks into his bowl. “Maybe so. I’ve just been hunting. It’s fresher.”

  


“Yuck,” Muddler said while making a face.

  


“So that’s where the feathers came from,” Mymble wondered aloud. “That completely slipped my mind. I’ll have to cook fish more often for you. I’m terribly sorry.”

  


Joxter shrugged, helping Moomin to serve everyone. “No harm done, I haven’t gotten sick yet.” He frowned, looking around the table. “Hey! Where’s Hodgekins?”

  


“Couldn’t make it. He’s super busy with his project designing. Said he’s gonna need the Oshun Oxtra next,” Moomin sighed, drinking his soup.

  


Muddler nodded in agreement. “He’s awfully busy with whatever it is he’s planning. He said we can leave the island and continue adventuring when he’s done.”

  


“Did he say what he’s working on?” Joxter raised an eyebrow, his tail twitching eagerly behind him. “I’d hope he finishes soon then, I would love to get back to exploring and travelling once again.”

  


“No, he said it was a surprise.” Muddler paused, noticing Joxter’s excited glint in his eyes. “Uh, but he said you’re more than welcome to stop by and see, Joxter. Since he knows you’re the most eager out of all of us to leave.”

  


Joxter’s eagerness immediately deflated. Moomin hid a chuckle in his glass, and Mymble simply shook her head with a smile.

  


“If you all are leaving the King’s Island, I’d be interested in joining you. I’ve always dreamed of leaving here to live somewhere else, even when I was a little girl.”

  


Moomin nodded eagerly. “That’d be wonderful, Mymble. I always thought it was more the merrier, anyways. We’ll find a lovely place to build you a house.”

  


Mymble beamed brightly, standing up. Joxter peered curiously up at her as Mymble leaned over the table, and uncovered the cake pan she had brought with her. “On that note, how about some cake, everyone?”

  


Muddler passed her a cutting knife. “That would be great, thank you Miss Mymble.”

  


“Mym makes the best sweets,” Joxter agreed.

  


“Oh, you boys are too kind.” Mymble flushed proudly, cutting the cake and passing out the plates.

  


Moomin eagerly accepted a slice, taking a bite from it. “Oh, wow, this really is amazing! You really are an excellent baker!”

  


“Oh- Joxter, wait!” Mymble quickly grabbed his wrist, preventing Joxter from taking a bite. “There’s lemon in it. You’ll get sick.”

  


“Oh.” Joxter frowned, setting his fork down. “Good catch, thanks.”

  


Mymble smiled sheepishly, reaching down into her bag and pulling out another, smaller container. “I did make you a small blueberry crumble tart, though.”

  


Joxter blinked, slowly taking the container as Mymble held it out to him. “You.. did?”

  


“Well, yes. I knew you wouldn’t be able to eat lemon pound cake, after all.” Mymble took Joxter’s contaminated fork, and passed him a clean one. “There we are.”

  


“How sweet of you.” Muddler laughed at Joxter’s blushing, dumbstruck expression.

  


“Your tart looks amazing as well.” Moomin stepped on Joxter’s foot under the table.

  


Joxter startled, nearly dropping the tart. He quickly set it down to avoid that unfortunate event, and picked up his clean fork. “Oh. Right. Yes. Thank you, Mymble. It looks fantastic.”

  


\---

  


“That should be the last of the supplies,” Joxer grunted as he set down the last box. “Ugh, ouch.”

  


“I still can’t believe Hodgekins made the Oshun Oxtra able to transform into an underwater boat for storms.” Moomin helped Joxter push the box into place with the others.

  


“Submarine,” Hodgekins corrected.

  


“Still! It’s quite amazing!” Moomin dusted his hands off. He glanced to Joxter, who had hissed under his breath and was now rubbing his wrists. “Oh dear, Jox, are you getting forebodings again? And it was such a lovely evening.”

  


“I know it’s not a storm, but it’s gotten worse since this morning.”

  


Muddler popped out from behind another pile of boxes. “You advised us to pack more stores than normal, y'know. Is it a stowaway? Are we going to get stranded?”

  


“No, no, nothing like that..” Joxter cracked his knuckles with a frown, before lurched forward with a groan, clutching at his head as his fur rippled like he'd felt a sudden chill.

  


“Hodgekins! It's a bad one!” Moomin stepped towards Joxter hesitantly. “Jox, Joxter, hey, are you alright? Joxter!"

  


“Hey, Joxter.” Hodgekins hurried back down below the deck and took hold of Joxter's shoulders and held him steady. "What's wrong? What's going to happen?"

  


"Out in the water, going to drown, she's-" Joxter muttered, then turned to Moomin in a panic, tail whipping wildly behind him. “Moomin, hurry! The beach!”

  


“What??” Moomin didn’t stick around long enough to get an explanation, running back above deck and hopping over the railing. Once on the beach, he looked around wildly in the light of the full moon and the lighthouse’s beam, desperately trying to find what Joxter was warning him about. There was nothing among the sand, so he turned his gaze to the sea.

  


Moomin almost thought that Joxter’s warning had been nothing, until the beam from the lighthouse swept over the expansive ocean again, over the rising tide, and Moomin saw something- someone, in the water.

  


It was another moomintroll, caught in the riptide and being tossed among the waves.

  


“Don’t worry, I’m coming to rescue you!” Moomin yelled out to the other troll. He rushed into the water, fighting against the current to swim to them.

  


“Hey!” Moomin shouted again, as he drew closer to them. “Grab my tail! I’ll pull you to shore!” The other moomintroll flailed against the waves, grabbing onto Moomin’s tail in desperation. As soon as he felt the tug, Moomin let the incoming tide push the both of them back to the shore. Once he could feel the sand beneath his feet again, he stood up, wrapping his arm around the other moomintroll and helped them to run up a sand dune, to avoid being swept away by the waves again. Once they were both atop it, they collapsed into the sand, breathing heavily and coughing.

  


The other moomintroll slowly sat up, still coughing. “Oh- oh dear me, thank you so much for rescuing me. Oh- my handbag-!” She patted the sand her, before giving a sigh of relief and pulled it beside her. “Oh, good, there it is.”

  


Moomin sat up, wiping the salt water away from his eyes. “I’m glad you’re alright. I’m Moomin.”

  


The other moomintroll smiled sweetly at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Moomin. I’m Moominmaiden.”

  


Moomin looked up to her once the water was cleared from his eyes. “It’s nice to meet… you too..”

  


Moomin couldn’t help but stare at Moominmaiden. Her white fur, despite being soaked with salt water, looked free of imperfections and silky soft. Under the moonlight, and the sweeping beam of the lighthouse, Moominmaiden’s eyes looked as green as the rich moss that grew on the trunks of trees, the one that Moomin often collected because of its sweet taste, to add to his teas.

  


“Beautiful,” Moomin whispered.

  


“I’m sorry, what was that you said?” Moominmaiden whispered back.

  


“You’re absolutely beautiful.”

  


Silence fell over them. Moominmaiden blushed a rosy pink, giggling slightly. Moomin’s heart fluttered, and oh, it was like watching Joxter dance in the moonlight with the fairies all over again, with the pounding of his heart and the tingling in his toes, the butterflies in his stomach-

  


“Moomin!”

  


Joxter’s voice from farther down the beach shattered the moment. Moomin stood up, waving his hands. 

  


“Jox, over here!”

  


Joxter ran over to them, carrying two large towels in his arms. He draped one over Moominmaiden’s shoulders, and Moomin gratefully took the other one.

  


“I’m awfully glad you’re alright, miss.” Joxter helped her up, and Moomin took her other arm. The two of them began to help Moominmaiden down the sand dune, back towards the Oshun Oxtra. “Let’s get you both inside, to dry off and warm up. Muddler has some blankets, and Mymble is heating up some hot chocolate for the both of you. The ocean must be freezing right now.”

  


\---

  


The trap door to below deck was opened, then slammed shut. Moomin snapped his head from his book. Joxter came down the stairs, drenched and looking absolutely miserable.

  


“What happened?” Hodgekins asked.

  


“Did you guys not think to come and wake me up from my nap when it started raining??” Joxter whined, “Or even when it began raining hard enough that you guys decided to drop anchor for the night and weather it out?”

  


Muddler burst into giggles.

  


Joxter pouted, glaring at him. “I’m going to catch a cold, because of you.”

  


“Oh come here, you dramatic baby,” Mymble called from across the room. “You’ll only catch a cold if you don’t come warm up.” She set aside her mug of tea, and the couple of children in her lap quickly slipped off.

  


Joxter huffed, as if this was a rather painful thing to do even though it wasn’t, and trudged over to Mymble. He dropped down and sat next to her on the floor. Without a word, he dropped his head into her lap and closed his eyes. Mymble brushed his wet bangs out of his face, running her fingers through his hair a couple times before beginning to scratch behind his ears. Almost immediately, Joxter seemed to have already fallen back asleep.

  


Moomin stared a bit blankly at them.

  


“Something the matter, dear?” Moominmaiden asked quietly from next to him.

  


Moomin shook his head. “No, it’s just- I’ve never seen Joxter let someone really pet his hair before. Not even me, really. He usually shies away. The only time he really let me was when he was asleep.”

  


Moominmaiden chuckled softly, going back to her embroidery. “That’s what love does to people, dear. It makes people silly.”

  


\---

  


“Papa!”

  


“Whoop- watch out now!” Joxter lunged forward and caught Mumble as she jumped down from the mast rope ladder. “Careful when you jump, I don’t want you getting hurt!”

  


“And you might give Little My some rotten ideas,” Moomin added.

  


“Sorry, I just got so excited!” Mumble ran to the railing, pointing excitedly. “There’s a dock up ahead, over there! I saw it! Papa, will we be landing there?”

  


Joxter walked over to the railing, peering out over her head. A beach had appeared in view of the ship, and just a little farther off was a pier, rapidly coming into view. “Muddler! A bit to the left! Dock up ahead!”

  


Moomin leaned against the railing next to Joxter, a coil of rope thrown over his shoulder to tie the boat to the dock. “I think, according to Hodgekins’s latest map, this should be Moomin Valley.” Moomin patted Mumble’s shoulder with a grin. “Why don’t you go tell your mother and the other ladies that we’ll be docking soon?”

  


“Aye aye!” Mumble laughed again, jumping off the railing and quickly disappearing down below the deck. 

  


Joxter chuckled, sitting up on the railing. “Guess we’d better start preparing for docking. Hey- why’s it called Moomin Valley? Did the map say?”

  


“No, it didn’t, but it was probably discovered first by a moomintroll. Haven’t heard of it before, though.”

  


“Well, we are very far away from where we first set off though.” Joxter jumped off the railing when the boat shuddered to a stop, taking the rope coil that Moomin offered to him. As Joxter tied the ship to the dock, Moomin tossed the anchor over and dropped it into the water.

  


“What a lovely valley!” Moominmaiden smiled softly, approaching the railing and gazing off into the forests bordering the beach. “It’d be a wonderful place to settle down.”

  


“Absolutely. Can’t be travelling forever, after all.” Moomin paused, looking to Joxter. “Oh, but mumriks don’t do that, do they? Settling down, I mean.”

  


Joxter shrugged, climbing back onto the railing and sitting down on it. “Not permanently, no. Some choose a home base, or favored spots to return to often, though.” He flashed a smile at them. “Don’t see why I couldn’t do that, and stop here when travelling is a little rough.”

  


“Really, you’d do that? Oh, that’d be wonderful, Jox, then we all can be here!” Moomin grinned excitedly.

  


“I’ve had a couple of previous haunts, so it’s not too much of a change for me,” Joxter laughed, leaning down. Moomin quickly ducked his head down slightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Joxter hesitated for a moment before pressing a kiss to Moomin’s forehead.

  


“Well boys, I’m off to explore!” Mymble laughed, climbing off of the boat. “Are you boys going to be joining, or am I gonna be off by myself!”

  


“Coming!” Joxter fell back off of the railing, snagging the rope ladder and landing onto the dock.

  


“Whiiiiipped!” Muddler taunted.

  


Moominpappa laughed as well, pushing himself up off the railing. “I’ll be joining them. Moominmaiden?”

  


Moominmaiden grinned and clapped her hands together. “Let me grab my handbag, and I’ll be ready.” She turned and disappeared under deck. When she returned a few seconds later, she accepted Moomin’s hand, and the two climbed off the ship to start their exploration.

  


\---

  


“Are you and Joxter together?”

  


Moomin reached a hand out, helping Moominmaiden cross the rocks in the stream. “What do you mean?”

  


“Well.” Moominmaiden gripped Moomin’s hand tightly, leaping onto the riverbank. “Ah, there we are. It’s just, he seems sweet on you.”

  


Moomin hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose he still does a little bit.”

  


“So the two of you were together, then?”

  


“No. I don’t really think so. Maybe at one point, but things have kinda changed.”

  


Moominmaiden stopped walking, causing Moomin to stop and look back to her.

  


“So you’re not.”

  


“No. Why? Does that matter for something?”

  


Moominmaiden blushed lightly, fiddling with her hands. “I was a bit afraid to say anything before. I was afraid that you and Joxter were together, but I’ve fancied you for quite a while now.”

  


Moomin laughed, grabbing Moominmaiden’s hands excitedly. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that! I’ve liked you ever since I rescued you from the sea! When we set out to explore this morning, I was hoping we could find a lovely part of the valley to build a house, a proper moominhouse!”

  


“Oh, that sounds so wonderful! A blue house, with a shaded veranda!”

  


“And a large yard, to host festivities!”

  


“Um!” Joxter said awkwardly.

  


“Joxter!” Moomin dropped Moominmaiden’s hands. Joxter waved stiffly, holding a basket in one hand. Mymble, by his side, waved at them much less awkwardly.

  


“We, uh, made lunch.” Joxter shoved the basket into Moomin’s hands. “Enjoy your picnic. We’ll be off now.”

  


“Joxter-”

  


Mymble took Joxter’s arm in her own, shaking her head with a smile. “No, no, it’s fine, dears. We should probably relieve Hodgekins of babysitting duties so he can explore for himself. Your plans sound wonderful though! I can’t wait to see it sketched out.”

  


“Mymble-” Moomin tried again.

  


“No,” Mymble said sharply, making him wince. Mymble paused, closing her eyes and softening her face back into her cheery smile. “Really, it’s alright, my girls are a handful, and Hodgekins probably needs a break. You two enjoy your picnic! Joxter, will you be joining me?”

  


Joxter stared at Moomin and Moominmaiden, before nodding. “Yeah, sure. Your moominhouse sounds great, guys.” He turned, beginning to walk away with Mymble still linked around his arm.

  


“Mymble doesn’t normally act that sharply,” Moominmaiden whispered, “What just happened?”

  


“I think I upset Joxter,” Moomin said.

  


\---

  


“I thought I might find you here.”

  


Joxter didn’t move from the ship railing, continuing to gaze off into the ocean horizon. Moomin moved next to him and leaned against the railing.

  


“Haven’t seen you in a couple weeks. Been busy?”

  


“Been helping Mymble with her own house. Between that and minding the horde, I haven’t had much time,” Joxter mumbled. “I had a dream, recently.”

  


“A dream, with a capital D? Or just a standard dream?”

  


“I don't think it was forebodings, not yet, but I’m not sure.” Joxter smiled wistfully, tracing a claw along the wooden railing. “But I had a dream of a little boy with a kitten face and wild hair. He liked to talk to the birds."

  


Moomin nodded, looking to Joxter. “Jox.. we really need to talk.”

  


Joxter winced, resting his chin on his arms. “Yeah. I know.”

  


“We can’t keep dancing around each other like this for forever. It’s not fair to either of the girls, or to you. We need to recognize that we’re not what we used to be. That we drifted apart.” Moomin tapped the railing with his fingers. “ I don’t.. I don’t feel the same for you now, that I once did. And it isn’t fair to keep yanking you around like I have been, a bit.”

  


“It’s-” Joxter swallowed hard, before trying again. “It’s very hard, for me, to choose between you and Mymble. I care for both of you deeply.” Something akin to hope glittered in Joxter’s face, and he stepped away from the railing, looking to Moomin. “Mymble and I, came to an agreement, you know.”

  


“Oh?”

  


“Yes- because of my nature to wander, after all, and her nature to take multiple partners.” Joxter twisted his fingers together, tail lashing behind him nervously. “She said she doesn’t mind what I do, romantically, as long as we’re open with each other, so, maybe, if that interests you..?” Joxter’s eyes flitted down to the deck boards.

  


Moomin shook his head, a soft sigh escaping from him. “I can’t do that to you, Jox. I’m not going to give you false hope. I can’t love you the way you want me to.”

  


Joxter wilted again, hands dropping back to his sides. “I knew you’d say that. I just.. Had to offer yknow? Just in case. So.. then, this is the end.”

  


“I believe it would be.”

  


Joxter nodded with a silent sigh. “Then- might I have one last kiss, before you go?”

  


“Go ahead.”

  


Joxter stepped forward hesitantly, lifting Moomin’s head. He pressed a gentle, featherlight kiss to Moomin’s lips before letting go, stepping away again.

  


“Moomee, I-”

  


“Don’t,” Moomin whispered. “Don’t make this more difficult for yourself than it already has to be.”

  


“But don’t you know, Moomee? Causing trouble is what I do best.”

  


A tentative silence fell over the both of them, and Joxter squeezed Moomin’s hands tightly.

  


“I love you,” he whispered.

  


Moomin pulled his hands away from him, and turned to leave. “Goodnight, Joxter.”

  


“Goodnight, Moomin.”

  


Moomin left the ship, and crossed the sandy beach to head back into the valley. When he reached the forest line, he stopped, and turned back, looking to the Oshun Oxtra. Joxter was leaning against the railing again, his back to Moomin and the valley and his eyes to the horizon. A gentle ocean breeze ruffled the mumrik’s hair and coat, and the slowly rotating beam from the lighthouse illuminated his black fur every time the light passed over him. His tail curled and uncurled lazily, at his feet, and the flowers on his wide brimmed, red hat- daisies this time, it seemed- were beginning to wilt and turn brown.

  


The sight did not make Moomin’s heart leap like it once had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> joxter is allergic to citrus because it's poisonous to cats
> 
> and with this, we say goodbye, but not forever. This is just one chapter of a story not quite finished yet. I hope you stick around for the rest of this series! (I hope you enjoy those parallels in this final chapter too)


End file.
